


Compensating

by Risa (xCloudy)



Series: Diamond Notes [1]
Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, I'm sorry?, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Kind of Fluff but kind of not, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCloudy/pseuds/Risa
Summary: Did it matter that she was out of Brick's league?Yes.What was he going to do about it?Everything.
Relationships: Brick/Blossom Utonium, Butch/Buttercup Utonium
Series: Diamond Notes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107131
Comments: 24
Kudos: 57





	1. Glad you came

**Author's Note:**

> ***I tried my best to omit any OC's. Um, I might have renamed one person (I tried to make their identity obvious). Otherwise, dropped names are directly from the PPG 1998 cartoon and comic series. I might forget to tag what episode they're from but I'd like to assure you that there're legitimate faces to each name I've dropped. Some weren't named in the series, so I gave them one.***
> 
> Based in the UK since I'm not familiar with the American grading system. I did tweak it for general understanding. 6th form has two years which are the lower and upper levels. It is usually advised to do the lower year studies before the upper-year, but it's not like it's a prerequisite. Essentially, for an A level subject to be valid, you must do the two levels. The order you complete the modules (AS and A-level ) doesn't really matter. They just have to be done. 
> 
> This isn't really important to the story, but I'd feel more comfortable crossing all my t's and dotting my i's.
> 
> Freshman year is like 4th form; Sophomore year is 5th form. You'll have an international Standardized test called GCSE A level (because you do the O levels in form three) to complete before you can even dream to enter 6th form (Junior and Senior year). 
> 
> Some schools are junior and senior comprehensive, as in, the 1st-3rd forms are separated from the form 4's-5's. Some are a full high school, forms 1-6. Some are just forms 1-5 and some are just the 6th forms (like a pre-college). I went to a full high school so I'm just writing what I know. Forms 4-5 were semi separated from the lower secondary whereas the 6th forms had a fucking paradise away from the plebs (and we had a cool tie added to our uniforms! Form 6's were balling! ~~in a nerdy way~~ xD)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brick meets the new girl by chance and might quite possibly start falling hard. The problem is, he's pretty sure she doesn't _feel the same way_.

* * *

The hardest pill for Brick Mathews to swallow was that Blossom Bellum was inexplicably out of his league. Having his close friends continuously seeing the need to remind him didn’t do much to help. In fact, it probably led to his downfall... but that’s a later story.

Blossom was a late transfer — and not late as in _a few weeks in when everyone had already settled into class_. We’re talking about the last trimester before her final year of sixth form. As in, she only had about two months for her international standardized exam… as in, her parents were fucking crazy to choose that time to make her move.

Of course, a circumstance as bizarre as hers was bound to be a mumble of some lips. However, aside from the first to fourth forms, students were too fucking busy preparing for exams to really give a shit.

“Blossom, could you be a dear and—”

Brick's first encounter with her was during intermission. She’d been digging through her locker for maybe a textbook, a water bottle, or a phone charger — _the specifics didn’t matter to him —_ all the while chatting with Princess. She probably wasn’t the most stunning girl he’d seen, but — _goddamn_ — he’d be fibbing if he said he wasn’t chuffed to bits at how put-together and refined she seemed.

The girls’ uniform never looked so appealing. Her ember hair flowed to the crook of her back and his eyes couldn't help but watch the way her hands gingerly returned a lock of free-flowing strands behind her ear. There was a straight-up need, or _desire_ , for him to properly introduce himself to her but… he froze… or was anchored by the way her pink irises cascaded his face without even half a thought when she finished her sentence.

The stare-off for him felt intense despite it being just a mere three seconds. Her eyes smoothly returned to her locker, then Princess, then over her other shoulder without even a single acknowledgment of him…

She literally looked through him. And even though that revelation sunk deep in his thoughts, Brick's face flushed crimson red before he could do anything about it. The computer science book he wanted to shove in his locker until his next class couldn’t seem any more interesting. It was a rare sight… Brick Bloody Mathews with his eyes steeled to a book… just because he didn’t want to be caught staring or blushing as he walked past the unfamiliar face. 

He should have said something; he wanted to. But who was he kidding? He wouldn’t have even gotten a word out if he tried; he was gobsmacked!

* * *

Brick spent most of his upper high school career trying to minimize his interactions with Princess. Not because he hated her or anything like that — _his best-kept secret? Had Princess not the insistence to throw a bloody wobbly the moment she’d been a tad peeved, Brick would’ve had no problem claiming her as a close friend_ — but just the association dug sizeably into his, _unfortunately_ , growing notorious reputation… he wasn’t rich enough to erase a bad stain. He had to be careful.

Sure… Brick had a bit of a temper. True… he threw the first punch a few times in the past. But despite his pretense of being unbothered, Brick didn’t really appreciate being called a ruffian. Maybe it’d help if some of his intentions or actions weren’t purposely hurtful but... who could blame him after he’d been clawed at repeatedly because of common age jealousy.

He also had this thing which he shared with Princess… and it might inherently be _their thing_ since it was the blandest, most common type of tomfoolery that classic mean types would engage in. They’d sit on the bleacher, _platonically_ , him being one seat above hers and body leaned towards her ear as he’d whisper some very ‘judgy’ comments. And she, just between his feet, body slouched back and eyes looking eagerly with the wriest of smiles, would happily indulge in gossip as they shared embarrassing points of their targets in mock humour.

That was the basis of his and Princess’ relationship. Standard shady stuff. But possible crushes — _he swore to himself it was not a crush_ — wasn’t. He’d prefer saving his dignity and leaving some charters unexplored because honestly… he wasn’t sure what backlash he’d receive if his ‘ _curiosity’_ went public. He probably imagined the sarcastic wheeze Princess would make before she started teasing him and… he had pride.

It was his anchor.  
He was okay with it.

It wasn't as if he liked the new girl anyway.

He just wanted to know… if... she’d been adjusting well to her classes. Or if her subjects aligned well with her old school and why she hadn’t been sitting with Princess at lunch… or with anyone for a matter of fact.

For a week now.

So, this must have been, what? Her third week as a student… second week since he’s seen her, and it was as if she was a fucking ghost. Never at Princess' table, the gymnasts’ or any of the seemingly popular spots he’d expect her to be. Like, come on! Have the others not seen her? Why wasn’t she scooped up with some easy to notice popular clique so he could get to know her already?

Instead, she was nowhere to be found… not even at the outdoor seating area where the garden was... and the skies were clear! That meant God was smiling down at London… but no… she was still playing ghost and the longer he searched for the pretty ginger with small shoulders, the more he was starting to believe she was fucking made up!

Words couldn’t express how annoying and blimey frustrating it was for him to even figure out the girl’s first name without directly asking someone, ‘Hey… you heard about the new girl? What’s her name?’.

Maybe if he’d paid attention to it when it slipped off Princess' lips, he’d save himself the internal turmoil. But he’d been too much in shock of the class of girl she was to even breathe naturally.

Was that what a first crush was, or was Blossom some type of fucking siren?

* * *

Who knew why, but Brick had cut his bullshit and decided to pay attention to his AS Biology lecture for once. _Could be_ that it was the first week of May — _just_ _a little under two months until the **big** exam after all_— or maybe because London spits could get _super_ depressing _real_ fast.

It was like this; the sky’d get pitch black, overcast… no sun and the temperatures would drain to these shivering tones that’d force goosebumps up your arms if they’re stupidly bare. And let’s not talk about the shit-job his overpriced preparatory school did at regulating the temperatures. They could blame it on the draft from their poorly-insulated historic wooden windows all they wanted, but everyone and their grandmum knew it took central heating more than five minutes to stop chucking that devilishly chilling breeze through the upper vents and start pushing the much-needed heat everyone deserved.

The drab of pooling waters on cobblestones may have seemed more serene from the third floor — _where all 6 th forms, including Brick, were_ _classed_ — but it paled to the fluttering stray petals and leaves or the pigeons which usually crowded the garden on a sunny day. Heck… maybe if his Bio class didn’t overlook one of the best features in school, he’d pay attention more often, but, oh well… sorry Miss Keane… more interesting things were outside your window.

Heck, he wasn’t even sure if he’d brought an umbrella today. Just thinking about a wet commute home was gloomier than listening to his class teacher rehearse something he’d already heard at cram school last Thursday evening. But the class’ lull had been humbling. His chin in an open palm as his red eyes slowly strayed from the rain streaking sadly down the misted glass and towards the red pointer dot Miss Keane so animatedly glided across the diagram. He heard maybe a stretched yawn or two, fucking second year Mary constantly flicking her pen before she scratched aggressively her pad and a few exhausted groans as Keane went further into detail.

Her questions came with barely any volunteers; _expected_. She hadn’t the time to express how impertinent it was that they got these concepts before lessons were over and non-stop exam drilling would start. There’d been somewhat a murmur at the far right, and Brick figured… after… what was it? A third confident answer in a row? Well, it was about high time he’d see who the fuck that strongly projected voice came from.

No.  
Fucking.  
Way.

Standing proud in her black watch tartan skirt, her desk just one to the right of Miss Keane’s and wearing a bomber jacket certainly a few polycounts thicker than their school blazer — _which he understood since their school would imitate brass monkey temperatures after just a drizzle_ — was her.

"Right indeed, Blossom."

Brick properly rose his head from captured palms. His eyes blinked in obvious surprise and his lips were close to becoming agape. She looked different; prettier, lovelier. There was now a satin red ribbon tied atop a high ponytail and the curly strands on her neck couldn’t help but get tangled as her fingers tried to rub her goosebumps away. Townsville may have probably been the worst place in London regarding drop-dead temperatures…  
Scratch that… he was pretty sure it was barely chilly outside; the people here just had the worst type of central air systems. The type that’ll suck your soul out if you weren’t properly dressed or prepared.

She pulled the blazer closer to her, the exposed skin being covered smoothly and his eyes finally moving from its nonchalant stare. Her small shoulders seemingly tensed before she rolled them. She smiled understandably after praise and sat with a glow.

A transfer this late would’ve been expected to be struggling, but either this girl was a fucking genius or her old school was… well… exemplary.

He was leaning on a ‘yes’ to both hypotheses. Anyone with half a brain could smell the overachiever brimming off her slender frame. She had this fluffy pink pen with a cartoon bunny figurine at its base and it was almost laughable seeing it wobble and bonk with each scribble she’d make jotting down notes as Miss Keane droned. Fuck it, Brick wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to class anymore. Active transport or whatever it was wasn’t worth his time. However, knowing everything there needs to know about Blossom was.

If she wasn’t so focused in class, she’d probably feel his stare. Even though it would waver, it always returned to her face, hands, frame. Someone onlooking might have just assumed he was spaced out… Brick… was known to do that in class sometimes… people previously rumoured he bought the exam slips due to the beyond acceptable grades he was awarded but… he couldn’t care less what they thought and a few correct answers in class had quickly debunked that theory. Boomer, however, who was exceptionally observant — _at all the wrong and unnecessary things_ — noticed something interesting.

"Out of your league, lass." Boomer poked the back of Brick’s chair with the rubber side of his pencil. He’d been pretty darn amused with himself as he applied a dollop of lotion on his cold, drying hands. Brick barely turned his chair and as usual, the notes he spotted on Boomer’s pad were… well... impeccable was just a modest way of describing them. The blonde may not have been the best study, but his notes were always neat, colour coded, and admired by many… including Brick.

"Yeah? Piss off Boom."

Boomer halfway threw up freshly rubbed hands in surrender and despite him being discreet this time, Miss Keane certainly noticed their little charade. Let’s just say… she wasn’t impressed and was never amused. Boomer tapped his fingers along his side of the desk like legs strutting down a runway, "Just making sure you’re not wasting your time,” he started, his finger legs twirling to the other side, and the poor girl seated next to him looked almost done with his bullshit, “After all, we're fr—"

" _I see that Boomer and **Brick** have found something more interesting than my lesson **again**_." The class giggled along as Miss Keane folded her arms with a tone which implied a possible detention trip that afternoon — ~~probably–~~ _most likely for Brick since that cocky mouth of his landed him in the worst possible places._

Except, he didn’t speak. Not even a peep. He just straightened in his seat and tried shrinking the moment Blossom’s unamused gaze met his wandering eye.

 _Bad impression_ …

The exact opposite of what he’d been mentally training for. Realistically, he knew that in order to befriend the girl — _and he swears it’s only to befriend_ — he'd have to do better; be better. So, he apologized, "Sorry, Mrs. Keane." And it was probably at least 75% sincere… _if that even counted_.

"For the last time, Brick... It's just _Miss_." much suspicion in her voice. Brick doing anything close to shying from center stage was... well… fucking wild was what it was! As much as she’d loved to chuck it up to him being knackered, it was Brick. Being real here… she knew him better than that. Or… at least… she believed she did. His sudden humility was saying elsewhat.

* * *

In the downpouring, class couldn't end any faster for Brick who unfortunately had found himself struggling to close zip his sliver backpack instead of chasing the ginger beauty and formally introducing himself. Then again… what was he to say? ‘ _Hey, I’m Brick… I kind of distracted class because my best mate teased me for staring at you_.’

Yeah. He wasn’t going to say that… or _anything_ as a matter of fact. Three weeks was too late to refer to her as the new girl… and _way_ too late for him to realize they shared a class.

Social stuff like this was usually easy for him. Fourth form… what was that equivalent to? An American freshman year? Well, he’d entered this school a week late — _nearly pulled an all-nighter just to finish unpack his school shit from those intricately labelled moving boxes littering his hallway_ — and for a school that ran from the first form to the upper sixth, you kind of stick out like a sore thumb if you’re a freshman transfer.

Anyway, cliques — _if you’d even classify their hodgepodge of social interactions that_ — were formed even before his family decided that Townsville, London would be their forever home — _instead of Citiesville and their high luxury townhouses or loft apartments people gobbled up like Christmas candy_ — and the locals were so comfortable and stuck to their routines that they weren’t ideally interested in new applications. But Brick waltz on the compound like he fucking owned the place and spoke to whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted because he was just _that guy_.

He impressed all those that mattered. One could tell a phony or a try-hard from a mile away. Guys who wanted attention would come in with a pair of fresh-off-the-shelves obviously designer shoes that they’d walk with a bit too much heel so everyone could turn to watch in awe at the sheer amount of money and ‘style’ they had. Brick came in with a pair of broken-in Vince’s and a puma backpack. Not much to turn heads, but for those of an upper standing, they’d put him on their ‘to greet’ list. For example, Princess.

Having a pretty face, okay physique, and crazy nice hair were passable for her to award him a late greeting. But that was all. She was so over try-hards and social-climbing pariahs. She’s been there, done that, and they could just fuck off. Brick, however… had the essence of one of ‘them’ and it’d probably been one of many reasons she didn’t shoo him when he’d boldfacedly sat next to her during lunch as if they were friends.

Which… they sort of turned out to be? Weird… And befriending these two guys named Butch and Boomer couldn’t have been easier. They just clicked. Simple. Guess liking the same shit like sports, nachos, and dumb pranks were enough for them. Who knew?

As for most of the school? Well… they were as shallow as you’d expect from any upscale preparatory school. Brick was good-looking and apparently charming. That was it… the football team — _and if he heard anyone call it soccer, he’d lose his fucking shit_ — was just icing on his cake… He was **_in_** the moment he walked through the school doors.

Simple.  
Plain.  
Easy.

 _Boring_.

Anyways… back to Blossom, who was… literally nowhere to be seen. Maybe if he wasn’t so caught in his head he’d have seen where she’d usually disappear to on lunch breaks. The girl was like a fucking ghost. Here one second, gone the next.

He didn’t even know what she smelled like… he imagined it’d be soft and pretty like her name. And… maybe it would have been a tad bit… just a wee bit _weird_ to sit in her seat to test that theory… maybe… and he would swear he wasn’t seriously thinking about _that_. He wasn’t a creep. But… he really needed to stop spacing out in the middle of the crowded hallway. One wrong thought and his face would flush red… he learnt that from last time… he knew he needed out of public view A.S.A.P.

A kid shoved past him on his way to the staircase and Brick misstepped twice.

Uh… wait, scrap that! Billy was no kid. Even without his sixth form darkened blue tie — _or the gold slanted pin of the roman numeral for two, (II), on it_ — Brick wouldn’t mistake for a second Big Billy for a ‘ _kid_ ’.

“Gotta get out this shitshow.” He grumbled, already weighing out his options of sticking around and hoping Blossom had the same afternoon class as his or skipping school to hang out at a café with at least semi-decent crepes and wait out the hours until it was appropriate to go home.

The air was a little bit dry inside anyway and there was a lot of brainstorming needed to be done before class tomorrow morning — _AS Biology 8:30AM -10:05AM with the lower levels’ 5minute class change time used as a break period_. So yeah, maybe he had a bit of work to do before convincing her that he wasn’t a doof. He had one or three sports scholarships lined up if he so pleased and they all required GPA’s of at least 3.5.

Brick wasn’t a stranger to hard work. Granted, he’d rather avoid it like the plague it was, but some things were worth burning midnight oil for. Like Miss Keane’s class assignment. It wasn’t hard… well, not really. It probably strained his brain only thrice before he completed it and the result had been more than pleasing.

On average, he’d barely put any effort into it. Class assignments didn’t really mean shit to fifth to sixth form students. The only thing that mattered was the end of the academic year’s international test and he had all intentions of acing this one as he did the last.

One problem…

He had a mental block. Brick simply couldn’t focus, and it wasn’t because he’d still been fascinated by Blossom and the discovery of her first name. His distraction stemmed from the memory of how repelled she’d seemed by him.

Despite it being a short and quickly fixed disposition, Blossom had worn her look of disproval so brazenly before it was hidden with a neutral sigh. Heck, the girl didn’t need to say anything her eyes didn’t scream. After all, the words ‘dumb jock’ was stagnant on her gaze and it seemed to have echoed to its own beat.

A dumb jock Brick certainly was **not**... _entirely_. He just… studied better alone… learned more from YouTube podcasts and you know what? He even pre studied with those online classes his parents subscribed him to. Walking down his hall, passing his mother's open door to her home office put unbelievable pressure on him. Gold framed plaques of degrees and achievements plastered her wall and that was only just a tip of the iceberg of how great his family was. His dad? Just. fucking. wow. He didn’t really mention his name much… he’d gotten looked down on before because Brick wasn’t the best at everything he did. Also... it was obvious that he wasn’t trying to be either. Brick preferred scraping by life with his God-given talents and the tiniest bit of effort. That way, when he wasn’t number one, he’d be content because he didn’t try his best.

Hence, girls like Blossom were the type he strayed from. About a handful _or all_ of them crowded his cram school; children of distinguished families or the flatliners who were trying to break out of lower middle class by hard work. Admirable… all of them, but… they reminded him a bit too much of his family and he just needed a fucking break from all that _noise_.

Cute though, he'd sensed a bit of a competitive nature from Blossom in class yesterday. As soon as Miss Keane deemed a question ‘quite difficult’, Blossom’d rush her hand to the air and flawlessly answered it.

“Try-hard." Brick sipped his light roasted, double brewed coffee before chucking a bit more Irish crème into the 12oz cup.

His sister looked at him suspiciously. The way he smiled wryly through puffed eyes and slightly red ears didn’t quite sit well with her. It was enough for her to throw down her Samsung and study him for a moment. "Mum! Brick's being weird today!"

It had earned her a glare.

"Sweetie, leave your brother alone for mum, please. He’s been behaved." The voice came from the mudroom, and it made sense since she mentioned needing to change her office curtains after window leaks made it a bit musty.

All in all, Brick's younger sister was a _brat_ in every possible way. Confiding in her could quite possibly have been the worst idea he’d ever had but being sleep deprived from studying till 2AM and waking at half 6 made him do and think weird things. 

"Court." Brick wasn’t usually the type to say anything before breakfast. The Mathews didn’t raise a morning son and they were quite fine with that. Caffeinate and fatten him up by half seven and he’d be quite bearable to the public. They were also quite content with that. While he’d been waiting for his sister to stop picking at her dry bowl of special K, his mind had been relaying all the concepts he crammed just so he could challenge Blossom in their shared class before intermission… petty… low… might just work.

"Oh, so he speaks to me...” She said tiredly, her eyes purposely avoiding his red ones in a bored manner, “What can I do you for?"

He wanted to scoff at how she rolled those pretty dark blue irises to whites, but his mother was a shrink… or therapist… or something like that… she was worth the big bank she made. Hence, his anger impulses... not bad enough to send him to juvie... _as long as_ _he **tried** to contain them_. "There's a new girl in school."

"Uh-huh," she nonchalantly answered, popping a few grains of cereal in her mouth as she digressed her social feed. It took her a while — _about eight seconds max_ — to register who he’d been referring to, and when it did, an impish smirk curled its way to her face.

Look. Brick would fucking go to war with anyone who dared mess with his sister — _including_ _Boomer who'd been getting a bit too close to her lately_ — but that didn’t mean he wasn’t about to get into it if she was about to start her bullshit so early in the morning.

“Lower sixth, _great hair_ , great form…” she slurred, singing it as she tried to stretch a reaction from him.

"That last part means… what? Exactly?"

Not even bothering to answer his question, she scoffed, "No offense, and I love you when you're not…"  
She playfully twinkled her fingers around him as she thought of a proper word, " **You**. Bu _t_ …"  
She stressed the ‘T’, "She's a touch bit out of your league and…” reasonable pause to chew on some more dry cereal, “I don't think you're her type... But _good tastes_...” she smiled, opening the cold bottle of milk next to her and finally pouring, “Listen. If you could drag yourself out of the friendzone with Princess, then maybe you have a chance with Blossom."

His lips flattened, "One, I don't like or even see Princess like that. Two, _I'm_ the friendzoner. Three. Just networking."

"Right" she mused, taking about two… maybe four spoonsful of her breakfast before standing, “Well… good luck bro… and it’s whatever but,” She threw her remaining cereal in the bin and washed her bowl clean. “Bet she doesn't even know your name."

* * *

"Brick, right?" Blossom was simply being friendly as it was her nature. She didn't want to be rude and admit that Brick choosing to be her desk-mate annoyed her. Plus, there was no way she could switch seats without seeming like a bitch so… basic pleasantries... and maybe a short prayer he doesn’t activate Sod’s law.

Blossom stretched a slightly uncomfortable look to the girl next to her. Robin was a nice enough student to sit next to and she’d wished she taken the free seat next to her when she’d gotten the chance.

Brick, however, was fucking beaming on the inside. He looked around the slowly filling class for Boomer’s smug ass in hopes the blonde would sit behind him like the curtain peeper he was. _Blossom knew his name_... A victory like that, _no matter how small,_ deserved to be shoved down Boomer’s throat... And probably down Courtney's too... If Brick was brave enough for that.

‘ _And_ _you're Blossom, right?_ ’ was what he wanted to say, but he was the type of guy anchored by his ego, so he answered instead, "Yeah, didn't catch yours... " A long ending to somewhat seem more inviting yet unbothered...

Well, it made sense to _him_.

She looked at him warily, her unwillingness to peel from her light conversation with the girl named Robin being something that showed in her now extremely tensed shoulders.

Brick surmised it to jitters or anxiety until he noticed the look on her eyes didn't mirror that perfectly placed and gentle smile on her lips.

The memory of the words 'dumb jock' still seemed to echo through her gaze. And despite her superb attempt at masking her thoughts, Brick was simply too sharp with these kinds of things to _not_ notice.

He cut his conversation short, like mid-sentence as he just grunted an 'okay' because the last thing he wanted to do was extend his time to someone who didn't appreciate it.

Miss Keane always had a knack of reaching to class just as the starting bell rang and she'd been visibly surprised that Brick was seated not only at the front of the class, but just a desk away from hers.

"Mathews?" she smiled. And Brick honestly believed that the way Keane constantly ‘picks’ on him could be considered harassment.

"Good morning, Miss Keane.” he pulled out his class text and notebook to start her lesson.

"Perhaps,” her fingers cradled her lips in confusion, “Did I go on and say that aloud?” cue the class laughter, “I was just _surprised_."

Took a while to get her bearings straight before she began her strict rule, "Okay, you know the drill. Completed homework scripts to the–" she fumbled, seeing that Brick had already stacked his _surprisingly_ _neat_ assignment atop his desk. It lacked his hurried, probably-done-on-his-morning-commute charm she’d been uncomfortably used to. “— to the front, please."

She looked between Brick and Blossom with a bit of query. Blossom was pretty, Miss Keane’d understand if he’d been putting on a show for the girl. However, the lack of shared interest they showed in each other — _not to mention the slight discomfort Blossom exhibited_ — had quickly disproved her theory.

"So! Last time in class we revisited active transport. Let's see who's been paying attention and doing their readings! There're 6 types of movement across a cell membrane. Who here can... yes... _Brick_?"

Blossom stiffened, ready to groan at Brick's attempt of being a clown. And she didn't mean to be judgmental, but they shared two out of their four courses together... at best, aloof would be a humble euphemism for his class behaviour.

Yesterday was probably the first time she’d seen a human register from him. Logically thinking, he’d be the last she’d expect to offer an answer... unless he wanted to make a joke... Which sucked, because if she wanted to achieve one of the high goals she'd set for herself, a class clown disruption wasn’t something she was too keen on having.

Then again, couldn’t hurt too much by giving him the benefit of the doubt. So, with expectant eyes, she waited for his attempt, hoping he'd get at least two of the six answers correct.

She wasn't expecting him to be _smart_.

"Well, including active transport, there's..." the way he started the sentence was a plus in her ears, and she'd been pleasantly surprised by the manner of eloquence hidden in his words, "simple diffusion, osmosis," he paused as if recalling before continuing his beat, "facilitated diffusion, endocytosis and..." _what was it again?_ Introcystosis? No, endo meant internal or within, so its opposite would have meant...

"Exocytosis." Blossom whispered the same time he said it, and to say the eye-to-eye exchange wasn’t fucking breath-taking would be a lie.

"Yeah." he said, almost looking down at her. Because if he'd let himself stare, he'd be blushing hard in the middle of class… and he knew his classmates would never let it down that he’s got a serious thing for the new girl... who, by the way, he's yet to have a proper conversation with.

Also, he wasn't ready to admit that he thought she was worth pursuing... or that he was _looking_ anyway.

The shy ‘yeah’ wasn't meant for Miss Keane's or even the class' ears, but she'd been so to-the-moon that she'd won over such an influential student that she gave an overjoyed, "That's correct! All of it!" before continuing her lesson in a more upbeat and energetic manner... Must say, it was probably the most exciting class they’d observed for the semester and it'd been because of Brick — _and by an unknown extension_ , _Blossom_.

He'd thanked her even though he didn't need her help, and her body movement slowly changed from annoyed to one of curiosity. She'd felt bad for expecting him to chat her up in the same unimaginative, prehistoric and egoistic way she'd been courted for the past three weeks she'd been at that school. And it was kind of weird... three weeks passed and this was the first time Brick showed any interest in class and he’d sat next to her the one time he did.

"You liked this topic?" she didn't even realize the words left her mouth as she packed her stuff away. Everything so neat, down to the compartments in her pale pink Brandy Millville corduroy backpack.

"What's that?" _She actually fucking talked to him_.

"Oh, I was just wondering, since you know..."

Brick turned to face Blossom in confusion as he paused his conversation. A little cloud of disappointment circled his chest the moment he realized her lips finished moved to a statement she seemingly expected an answer for.

_By the way, he heard naught one word spoken._

"Sorry...” he pushed a directional thumb towards Boomer, “I was talking to this cuck."

She showed no visible reaction despite her embarrassment. "Hello, Boomer." Her words shying off her tongue. After an audible zip, she strapped her bag to her back and nodded politely. 

It might have been out of her schedule, but just for today, she wanted to slow down, take a sip of her water and have a nice long stretch, but with five — _well, three now_ — minutes until she was at her next class, she couldn’t risk the chit-chat.

Of course, she should have spent her 15minute break mingling with her classmates rather than querying her answer for a practise test she did the night prior, but she wouldn’t have forgiven herself if she couldn’t solve it before she got home that day. So, three minutes till her next class... _great._

Not that Boomer noticed, but she’d lost her focus during Chemistry. She was quiet. Her notetaking was limited to what was etched on the board and she hadn’t been eager to answer questions. Instead, she nibbled at the tip of her thumb because Brick’s strange behaviour flipping bugged her.

She thought she’d analyzed him properly. She thought she saw through him.  
_She was wrong._

* * *

Blossom being in the same Medical Science class as him was quite the surprise that Friday. Well, after getting praised by Miss Keane and then those pleased nods when he’d participated in class, Brick kind of started trying. This was his third-day streak. A real game-changer for the overall mood. For him, Medical Science was usually a fucking drab. No use taking a window seat since the view was just their shitty car park. As for the teacher? Blindingly soulless. Taking this course would’ve probably been one of his biggest mistakes yet but... Blossom was there. Realizing that made class a bit worth it.

In his defense, he’d been in the same class with these blokes for two terms. No one expected a new face in the third term... Again, her parents were fucking insane for transferring her out after she started sixth form. Brick wouldn’t wish that transitioning stress on his worst enemy.

He skipped the seat next to her once more; he had to. Felt wrong.

Taking his usual position near the back, he tried his best to stay awake. Which was kind of hard when the projector played calming music as it showed a dull picture in front of the darkened room.

How badly did he even want to be friends with her? Brick could just take a bathroom break and never return as he usually did. No harm, no foul right? But... ‘ _dumb jock_ ’... she was new to the school and already thought of him like that... did the others also class him as that?

Brick was perfectly capable of sitting still and being an exemplary student. His only _block_ was his utter dislike for that teacher. The man had been belligerent to Brick in the past. Something about his use of red caps and how he’d forgotten to take it off before entering school doors.  
Well, pardon sir! Brick was well travelled! It wasn’t against his old school rules to roam the halls with it; just not in class… and he would’ve never!

But that wasn’t all. Apparently, the man _abhorred_ the long-haired version of Brick. He claimed the young lad’s appearance to be ‘ _indicative of the roadman culture_ ’ and made him ‘ _look like a gitty chav_ ’. Maybe Brick held grudges or maybe that man’s bad nature made his classes unbearable. Whatever it was, Brick seemed pretty pleased with himself after engaging in class activity. Why? Because it was the biggest ‘ _Fuck you, Mr._ _Wednesday_ ’ he could’ve legally and ethically pulled off.

* * *

Blossom absolutely hated being wrong. It didn’t help that it brought light to her judgemental side. The idea that Brick was actually a decent student bugged her. What was it before? Burnout? An act of rebellion? Or maybe all of this was some sort of elaborate game he was playing.

As much as she hated to admit, but she wished it was theory number three. She’d been hostile to him in her own special way simply because she thought of him as a hindrance. Blossom would’ve probably been scoffing at her previous self had she not been so disgusted with her current thoughts. It was kind of hurtful knowing that he deliberately avoided sitting next to her after last time... and she’d only conclude that after seeing him watch her empty seat and roll his eyes. It was as if saying ‘sitting next to her was the worst thing possible’.

She’d bet he was probably trying different ways to get focused and her bitch-attitude limited him. God, the anxiety of wronging someone because of her misjudgement was sending her insane... It was bad enough that she’d asked Princess about him — _twice_ — why was it so hard for her to speak with him or just flipping apologize?

Her parents didn’t raise her to be this rude.

“You alright? I was wondering…” _What the?_ The statement seemed odd coming from his lips, but it paled to the idea that she spent most of her class being deep in thought.

Blossom tentatively cast her eyes towards the slightly rhotic accent beside her. He appeared a touch nervous, or uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from leg to leg. Now would’ve probably been the best time for her to apologize but despite them opening their mouths at the same time, Brick’s throaty voice was the first to be heard.

“Lunch, maybe?”

He couldn’t help how choppy his words seemed. He’d been too focused on maintaining his nerve to notice how bewildered she was by his presence. Caught off guard by him twice in under two minutes left her to stutter, and she’d cleared her throat before politely giving him an apologetic response. “I kind of have plans with someone already…” In spite of being sincere, she felt guilty. Maybe it was that gutted look he tried to hide or the fact that he probably assumed she blew him off… which, she didn’t.

“But I _can_ take you up on that offer later.” There was too much uncertainty leaking out her sentence and Brick felt that suggesting a one-month-in tour was too desperate a move to make. Instead, he shrugged, tapped her desk, nodded, and left.

* * *

Brick quickly learnt that it was better to leave some things unknown. Observing Blossom’s lunch path would’ve been his lowest peak had he not discovered she blew him off to have lunch with the nerd patrol. There were quite a few people Brick disliked. The ‘gangrene gang’ seniors, Mitch… which was a long story, his sister’s friends… and Dexter.

In another life, maybe… just maybe they’d be friends. But Dexter was the personification of what most strangers expected Brick to be and he hated that. As for why Dexter disliked Brick… who knew! The fact was that those two never spoke, and when they did, it was far from nice.

Well, the sight was too disgusting to continue. Brick turned his heels towards the lunchroom since he was quite keen on keeping his distance from the V.P. of academics. He slammed his lunch on Butch’s table with much annoyance. The aforementioned boy parked a brow upwards, watching how swollen Brick’s face seemed.

“What’s his deal today?” Buttercup asked, her hands in Butch’s bowl of fries while she waited.

Butch only shrugged, maneuvering his hands so it doesn’t disturb hers before he dipped a few chips in the ketchup bowl. Being friends for over a decade brought about the type of domesticity that Brick failed to understand. Whether they’re on or off didn’t make much of a difference to Brick since he saw no change.

“Did I ever mention how much I _don’t_. like. Dexter?”

“Yeah… like once a month since you’ve been here,” Buttercup rolled her eyes, “What is it this time?”

“Does it really matter?” Butch asked, his hands flipped with nonchalance. A tablet with a slightly greased screen showed some figures from Butch’s class and if one stared at the dirty device, they could tell that Butch attempted cleaning it once or twice by the long grease streaks on its surface.

“Shh! Yes, it does! Drama King here _always_ has the best reasons.”

“He should probably just punch him.” Butch answered.

“That Mathews’ll have to mortgage their house _when_ he does.”

“Both of you, God!” Brick groaned, “Shut up!” His head on the table in the most ridiculous of ways, “But is Dexter more likable than me?”

Buttercup, finding the perfect reason to tease, exaggeratedly denied that claim, “ _No way_!” there was so much mock kindness in her voice that even Butch felt sick, “You know, between you and me, _you_ are so much—”

“Butch, could you tell your girlfriend to shut up?”

“Not dating anymore.” He reminded, popping another chip in his mouth and peripherally viewing Buttercup’s reaction… or at least, her lack of it.

“Come on Brickie-” She urged, committing to her peppy-girl act.

“ _Oh please_ , **no**.”

“ _Brickie_.”

_Did she just tie her hair in pigtails to annoy him?_

“Buttercup… I will floor you.”

“Oooh, kinky! I’d like to see you try.”

Butch, on noticing that Brick hadn’t even unwrapped his burger and Buttercup literally stopped eating so she could start shit, was bemoaning, “This channel sucks, could we go back to why you hate Dexter today?”

The two blinked and watched each other sheepishly as their temporary truce was signed. Spontaneous heated arguments were normal for them. Pretty sure Boomer had even suggested putting them in a ring to let them duke it out in the past.

“Uh yeah, sure Brick, why don’t you have the floor?” Buttercup was mature enough to humble herself when necessary. 

Brick picked at the silver wrapping of his burger as he spoke, “Well, you know that there’s a new girl at school right?”

Buttercup shrugged, chucking her quesadilla in the ketchup bowl before having a bite, “Heard but…” she took some time to chew and swallow, “…couldn’t care less.”

“Who, Blossom?” Butch asked, pushing his empty bowl of chips to the side as he rubbed at his apple.

“Right!” Brick enunciated. He took a grand bite, mustering the courage and smarts to continue his sentence.

“Funny,” Butch was a bit smug, and before Brick could even question, he finished, “She’s _way_ out … like far, _far out_ your league Brick.”

He felt insulted, “Not like that.”

“Heard that Butchie boy, _it’s not like that_.”

“You’re not helping.” Brick groaned.

“ _Sorry_ I wasn’t _born_ to help you, Sir Brick of the Mathews family.”

Brick rolled his eyes, “This!” he pointed, “She! Is the reason I don’t sit with you anymore!”

“Yeah, yeah… and what does Dexter have to do with all this.”

“Bet she’s dating him.”

He wanted to deny that ridiculous claim, but he knew an obvious set up when he saw one and the last thing he needed was for _Butch_ to jump on that train, “I _literally_ hate you right now Buttercup.”

She smiled, grinning as he stormed off to Boomer’s table, “Send me a postcard from the friendzone later on!”

“Piss. Off!”


	2. Animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's too shy to make the first step and she's too prideful to accept that she sucks at reaching out. It'd be great if they could clear up their misunderstandings, but life isn't that easy.

* * *

Brick rose his hand for the fourth time in a row to properly answer the posed question, “Bradypnea.” By then, the hushed whispers were getting louder and eyes of curiosity swarmed him; including Blossom’s.

Had he ever mentioned that Blossom shared Medical Science class with him? Had he mentioned Dexter did also?

“Correct again, Mr. Mathews.” Mr. Wednesday quoted; his tone as if he wished Brick messed up this time.

Lately — _as in an hour ago_ — Brick had been overstepping his version of the morally grey area. Whatever possessed him to return to that club room was beyond him. Maybe grey was the day’s chosen colour; the skies definitely liked it, and so too his mood.

He wasn’t even one to get jealous easily. Not to discredit his character, but jealousy required a certain level of effort he was far too unwilling to put. So, him subconsciously trailing the nerd patrol while filtering for only Blossom’s and Dexter’s voice should’ve been classed as terrifyingly _odd_.

The ego that Brick usually nursed was slightly bruised. Just for today, he’d allow himself to admit that. To Blossom, he was probably an incompetent wad. He’d already surmised that from their jarring interactions but that didn’t mean he had to accept it. The kindest gesture she’d given Brick was the unneeded answer to a question and that was sort of on him. He planned to fix that; _he had to_.

Anyway, somewhere in between mindlessly stalking them and moving via muscle memory, he found himself forced into the class he hated the most. Granted, he wasn’t as perceptive as he’d like to be, he shouldn’t have been surprised by that fact. Took him long enough, but with a bit of last-minute self-searching, he realized that living passively was the same as letting his potential waste away.

_Being a bum wasn’t acceptable for a Mathews._

Mr. Wednesday’s classes were usually just a taste of the concepts he’d heard when shadowing his mother’s seminars as a child. Sitting third row with his legs swinging on one of the visited universities’ lecture hall seating was a commonality for him. Even when his mind was captivated by whatever handheld console his parents gave him, Brick couldn’t help _but_ learn a new term from his mother or her peers. His current class — _sadly_ — paled to the enthusiasm he’d seen from those distinguished guest lecturers. It was probably because Mr. Wednesday was far too haughty for his own good.

It just made sense that Brick hated his Medical Science lectures. Ignoring the teacher, the class was chuck-filled with students who made overachieving look like child’s play. Sat with him were the aspiring med students, plastic surgeons, pharmaceutical scientists — _heck, freaking bio-weapons engineers_ — and they’d usually fight tooth and nail to prove they belonged there.

Even though it was just for that lesson, Brick allowed himself to be partially indoctrinated into that cut-throat culture. Despite wanting to slouch further in his seat with his hood on to hide an airpod blasting Latin tunes to drown out the boring lecture, he stayed attentive and engaged in the lesson.  
It was odd.  
It created rifts.

He didn’t give a fuck.

“ _What_? No answer this time, Mr. Mathews?” Coy, Mr. Wednesday egged Brick on. As much as the man’d like to pin Brick as the poster boy for all things rowdy and possibly ruff, he couldn’t deny that the boy seemingly possessed a brilliant mind.

However, he felt maxed out on answers. For starters, Mr. Wednesday never went into detail with these terms and it was clear he’d been ignoring the other rising hands. Rolling his eyes with his chin pressed up roughly into an open palm, Brick seemed to bluff. “Thought I’d give _the others_ a chance.”

Brick couldn’t help that his eyes snuck a glance at how focused Blossom appeared in class. Her hands didn’t rise for one second as she seemed more interested in digesting the new information than competing with the try-hards. The way her ponytail swung when she peeped the interactive board before dipping back into her notebook reminded him of fifth form pendulum experiments.

He probably shouldn’t have been staring at her so much, but the more he watched her nape, the more he’d enjoy the curled ringlets that contrasted her straight hair. She had the habit of rubbing it whenever she felt the slightest chill. Blossom was yet to adopt the culture of wearing a thick cotton jersey under her school shirt. Sad, but Poakey Oaks Academy sometimes being just two sips short of a freezer was an unspoken truth. If Blossom thought she would soon get used to it, she was in for a surprise.

When her pen was pressed to the desk, she intertwined her fingers and took a quick peek behind her back. Awkward, but her eyes accidentally locked with Brick’s before they trailed to the teacher’s frame.

Fucking hell…

His heart wasn’t ready for that disruption! Brick had full intentions of ignoring the rest of Mr. Wednesdays’ persistence. However, the way his face felt tight and heated had created a need to redirect his thoughts. His forced cough did very little to hide his blush and he knew it. Before the curious eyes caught onto his current predicament, he provided the class with yet another correct answer. This time, his voice came off a bit cracked and his tone was slightly distant, but everyone’s focus was thankfully more on Mr. Wednesday’s reaction than Brick’s overwhelming butterflies.

The boy looked to his left shortly after. He strained his eyes through the class’s slightly tinted windows to look at a smudge on the corridor’s walls. Blossom was going to be the death of him if she kept matching his gaze most of the times he stared.

“Common cause?”

Brick pointed at himself, confused as to why that dim teacher started beaming with each answer, “High fever.”

“Difference from hyperventilation?”

“Is this ‘ _50 questions’_ , sir?”

“Do you _not_ know the answer, _Mathews_?”

_Brick didn’t appreciate being challenged._

“In short?” he had to sit up straight for this answer, cause _fuck that bland arse named ‘Nathaniel’_ if he thought Brick would back down! “Tachypnoea is fast short breaths, hyperventilation is fast deep breaths.”

“I’d prefer the jargons, Mathews.”

“Rapid shallow breaths…”

“And—”

Shuffling was heard before the sharp clearing of another boy’s voice. Eyes immediately snapped to him as he spoke, and Brick felt like dying a little after the very _unwanted_ ‘back-up’. “No offense Mr. Wednesday, but I don’t think the **_school board_** would appreciate you grilling Mr. Mathews the **_one_** _day_ he decides to pay attention in your class.”

To say the tension didn’t grow fast and thick would be a lie. It had been a while since anyone heard of a student council member getting into a public tiff with a staff member. As much as some of the students loved drama, student council spats were usually an overprivileged catastrophe. Dexter may not have had the necessary ‘pull’ to throw around a career-ending threat, but there were at least three other council members in that class… needless to say, no one wanted things to get nasty.

“This is counter-productive and could quite possibly negate him from acting like he has a brain in the next class.” His blue eyes never once touched Brick’s desk. Instead, it stayed steeled to the old man’s face.

“Wow! _Ta_ Dorkster!” Brick slow clapped, “ _You’re too kind!_ ” Of course, his sarcasm brought about some giggling, but it was quickly quelled with the sound of Mr. Wednesday’s voice.

“Kindly save your breath to cool your porridge because offense _was_ taken Mr. Deasley.” The man straightened his jacket as he tried to keep his calm, “Is it now a _crime_ to pick at someone’s brain?”

Blossom rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the words projected on the board. The absolute _rubbish_ Mr. Wednesday tried to sell his students was almost appalling. Everyone and their mothers clearly saw it as a failed attempt at public humiliation. The worst part was that the topic was only barely touched. It was an absolute surprise to hear him casually answering the questions with words most of the class had never heard.

“Couldn’t ‘ _picking his_ _brain_ ’ be done on _your_ time instead of—”

“Are you two _seriously_ having a laugh?” Staci Hwang was one of those voices you just didn’t want to hear angry. Period. Didn’t matter that her student council rank was a bit low, her social standing wasn’t top tier, or even that her parent’s influence wasn’t boast-worthy, when ‘nice’ people like her snapped, parties who fucked up usually got silent. “This conversation swelled to something positively barmy. Thanks for that. We’re all chuffed about it!”

In an awkward standoff, the man fiddled with his tie. His strides to his computer were long but swift. He’d been on this slide for far too long and being called out like that for losing his professional perspective was certainly humbling.

Arguing with one of the lower sixth form’s sweethearts wasn’t going to make him feel any better. His best bet was to act as though he was unbothered and continue as though none of this had happened. “As we are all aware,” He cleared his throat as he got his bearings in order, “Most of you sitting in these seats will be branching off into different fields come graduation day. Whether it be artificial intelligence, medical technology, medicine, dentistry or you _just_ want to be an EMT, breathing patterns and what they indicate are very important! Mock Exams are soon and…”

 _Mock exams_ ; the magic phrase which always turned any of Brick’s fake attention real. It rendered all his internal quarrels nothing but white noise. He kind of rocked MS class’s world and Dexter feeling the need to defend him during class was no longer an issue. Heck, he didn’t even care if his previous exchange solidified Blossom’s assumption on him being a git or not!

Okay… maybe he _did_ care about the last bit but now wasn’t the time for lamenting.

All the hands which usually rushed to the air were almost non-existent. The only clear voice in the class was the teacher’s. Pen scratches, highlighter gliding, and focused breathing suffused the room. Every emphasis, page reference, and definition the teacher made was either a bulleted point, bookmark, or highlighted text in Brick’s notebook. It no longer mattered that Buttercup’s teasing felt brutal at lunch, or the fact that Boomer brazenly called bagsy on Brick's burger, — _by the way, Boomer’s parents are going to hell for implementing that low-sodium MIND diet_! — crunch time was near and suddenly all distractions were trivial.

* * *

After class, Blossom lingered in her seat as she willed the confidence to approach Brick’s desk. From what she’d noticed, he’d been the type to dilly-dally after lessons, so she’d assume she had nothing but time. Except that the day had been extremely stressful on him. Despite football practice being only optional on Wednesdays, he had all this pent-up rage that could only be released with a sharp kick to the ball.

 _Please_ , that poor goalie wasn’t near ready for his assault. Brick tugged off his sweaty shirt and tried to fan the extra droplets off as he ran to the other side of the field.

“That’s _fucking_ bullshit, Mathews! You wanna kill me with that kick, you cunt?”

“Should’ve just dodged!” Brick shook the stress off his limbs. He couldn’t care less about what’s-his-face’s thoughts.

“And let you score that goal?”

“So how much bones you break?”

The older student just chuckled as Brick danced to his position on the field, “Piss off, cunt.” Twice, twice he’d sworn at Brick. Did that mean he held a grudge? Well… Brick expected the boy to walk it off by tomorrow, so he didn’t care.

Blossom took a hesitant seat on the bleachers, specifically next to Princess who’d been armed with a highlighter and a textbook. Luxury sports were the only thing she knew and let’s just say that football was a far cry from tennis or golf. To her, it looked like organized chaos. Everyone understood their positions and roles, but the mechanics were a bit unpredictable. The players’ working chemistry was remarkable and the way they seemed to glide over each other and shove their way to the ball seemed violently in synch. It was like war… but beautiful.

“Surprised you’re not in the library.”

Princess attention wavered at the inquiry. The air had been crisp as of late and a tad bit dry. Despite the sensation of an almost bleeding nose, she couldn’t resist taking the occasional deep breath. “Oh, I’m not studying. Just needed to refresh my memory on this _one_ thing.” After Blossom nodded in understanding, Princess continued, “I mean I _could…_ ” A sneaky smile stretched on her face, “But get this babe; I feel like I’m in a bloody glass house with all those eyes… just staring at me. No, no. I rather stay out _here_ and watch these plonkers half kill each other with a ball. It’s more relaxing than a book or good Wi-Fi. Plus…” she would’ve finished, but Blossom had cut in unknowingly.

Blossom giggled in confusion, “Yeah… that staring thing? That’s weird, right?” She had to ask because Townsville seemed to have adopted customs that were far different from the rest of London.

“Girl, and if I say or _do_ anything about it, _I’m_ _the asshole_.”

Blossom smiled, “Sucks to be you.”

Princess grinned, “If only.” She slammed the book closed with glee after watching that nasty tackle on the field, “Okay, is it just me, or are they really going at each other today?”

Blossom didn’t bother faking her experience. Being the daughter of an ex-MP came with some perks; she never needed to lie to fit in. She was loved regardless of what she said or did. Of course, the people at this school were yet to know who she was, but her principles never changed. “Just popped my football-watching cherry. Have nothing to compare to but… are they any good?”

“Usually,” Princess shrugged, “I reckon they’ve got about six kids there with _guaranteed_ scholarships… good schools too!”

Blossom blinked in amazement, “Brick?”

“Yeah, he’s one…” Princes pocketed her textbook with a sly smile and popped open her juice box. “Did he ask you to watch him play? Cause he’s putting on a real fuck show today! Swear he’s out for blood!”

Blossom watched said boy literally jump over a player who glided on the grass. Had Brick been a tad faster, he probably could have stolen the ball and passed it to his teammate but even to Blossom, the chances of that happening was too slim.

“We haven’t spoken since lunch,” she mumbled as she tried to understand the mechanics of the game.

She felt Princess’ curious but suspiciously uncomfortable gaze on her. Of course, Blossom wanted to comment on it, but she felt like explaining her presence was the smarter play. “The sky’s grey… clouds look like they’re setting… just wanted to see what’s so great that you’d risk getting drenched.”

“I take it you don’t like sports.”

“I greatly appreciate the Olympics.”

“Ever went a game?” Princess asked, then trailed sneakily, “I guess Brick’s _especially_ good… he’s got a pretty good kick. Well, not enough for pro, but it’s categorically decent.”

Blossom rolled her eyes, “Why does it feel like you’re selling him to me?”

“I’m just saying Blossom,” she grinned, “He’s not as dumb as he looks… or acts… or talks.”

Blossom raised her brows, “He put on a real show in class today.”

“God, what did he do now?”

She shook her head in denial, “Mr. Wednesday started grilling him with a bunch of things he hadn’t taught yet… and at first, it wasn’t too bad but then… well… Dexter tried to end it, and when that failed, Staci jumped in.”

“Oh yikes, Staci’s a tough one.”

“So, I’ve heard but I can’t see it. She’s literally sugar-sweet.”

Princess giggled, “No babe, you need to put her in the same room as Boomer to see how _sweet_ she can be.”

“Bad blood?”

“Let’s just say… there’s bad breakups and there’s _them_.”

Blossom giggled, “Are we even talking about the same Staci here?”

“With an I? Mostly Asian, long black hair, speaks in a different language when she’s pissed and mostly hangs out with the seniors?”

“Hwang?” Blossom was in utter disbelief.

“Yup.”

“And Boomer?” Her brain refused to make that romantic link.

“ _Bad_ breakup.” Princess enunciated, her hands placing the much-needed emphasis. She pulled harshly on the last of her juice box before retraining her eyes to the field, “So I guess we know why Brick’s so angsty today.”

Blossom only hummed.

“Hey, I don’t usually vouch for people,” Princess mentioned, “But he’s not the average bloke.”

Blossom shrugged.

“So I’m _aware_ that you two got off on the wrong foot, but…” _Brick fucking owed Princess an arm and two legs for all this sugar-coating_. “Word of advice. If he ever pisses you off, you could just punch him. He’s gonna act like it doesn’t hurt and just swat your hand away.”

“I’m guessing you do that all the time?”

Princess chuckled, “Oh honey! I wish he’d try me but the boy’s no git. Sundays are my boxing days… part of my therapist’s ‘healing process’ for my,” _and she air-quoted_ , “ ‘anger management issues.’ What a bint, _right_! But anyway, I’d love to punch someone… anyone!”

The football coach wasn’t one to waste time with after practice-huddling or prep talks. You hear that whistle blow three times and it either meant break time or home time. Brick jogged off the field for a spot of water. With his face sweat-drenched as he peered across the bleachers, he gave a large wave to the girls cheering just a few seats across from where Princess sat. The sky had yet to clear and occasionally a drop or two would fall, not that anyone there particularly cared anyway; the bleachers’ spectators were well protected with the overhead glass and the players were already soaked.

Brick nearly choked on his drink. He could call it whatever he wanted, but his school-yard crush grew each time he saw her. She could be drinking water from the fountain with her head cocked at an angle, checking her notes during intermission or bloody walking through the school gates with her head held high and a pleasant smile on her face, Brick just needed to know her more.

Everything about her was different; looks, accent, mannerism. She was confident yet reserved, outspoken yet humble. To him, she was a much needed to be solved puzzle. Now this was the part where things got giddy. Not only had he noticed Blossom looking at him, but he realized the girl fucking left a smile and a shy wave for him. _Him_!

“Nice game Brick!” his teammate grinned, grabbing him by the shoulders and issuing a playful shake. He let go long enough to berate another teammate — _Harry_ — into switching shirts so he could play against Brick in the next half.

Of course, Brick wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He finally let a few Blossom-fuelled thoughts run through his mind and he just… fuck… if he grinned into a towel now, would that look weird? He always felt so self-conscious when it came to her. His hands rose slowly to give a wave he hoped wasn’t a try-hard.

Waving to the usual visitors was easy — _took Brick a couple of weeks in his fourth form year to get used to it_ — but having Blossom cheering him on was a different ballpark. A wave to her didn’t feel casual; it felt like an impression he needed to best.

Thank _God_ for the impromptu body pile — _which he barely got out of_. Brick’s wave had been a bit robotic and forced. Had he continued just a few seconds longer, well… thankfully he didn’t!

Brick’s flushed smile was hidden by his chuckle, “Oh right,” he looked at the guy at the base of the pile, “You’re the cuck who wants to go against me, right?”

“What could I say, Mathews? Looked more fun playing _against_ you.”

“Tell that to my blue-black chest.” The previous goalie complained. Brick seriously couldn’t care to see the blonde hairs poking from Jeff’s happy trail.

“Such a numpty! Should’ve just dodged.” Brick groaned as he tugged his shirt off. “Coach! switching teams, need me a green shirt.”

Some players piled on the field while the remainder headed to the bleachers for some light chat or a proper place to grab a quick protein bite. As much as Brick wanted to be one of those, he needed the clarity the open grass gave him. A lot of stuff was gnawing at him lately and he just needed to fucking let loose.

The coach rolled his eyes as he shot their sports manager a demanding look. Wes didn’t waste any more time as he trekked to Brick’s position. Brick looked at the clean vest forced into his hands and frowned, “Just needed the green jersey, keep the vest.”

Disappointed, Wes looked down at his sneakers with a loss for words. Floyd, aka, the guy who’d just been dog piled, aka, the guy who initially challenged Brick, had started a rather catchy, ‘Take it off!’ chant that stretched to the bleachers within seconds.

Peer pressure was a dangerous weapon to use against Brick. That poor boy succumbed to it despite the super embarrassing hoots and hollers he’d gotten from the bleacher’s ‘supporters’ and his goofy colleagues.

“Yeahhhh!!” the team cheered with an apologetic smile towards Wes after his face had the unfortunate union with the wet discarded article… who told the boys to go stupid, no one knew!

Their fifteen minutes was close to its finish and coach was very keen on keeping time. With a sharp double blow of his whistle, he shouted into his megaphone, “Kay you sissies! Wrap it up! Breaks over in two, get ‘er arses off the bleachers and into your positions before I blow my whistle again! Part two’s near! Let’s go! Let’s go! Move it, ladies!”

Brick peeped Blossom’s position one last time as he mulled over his decision to not talk to her. He really wanted to… probably needed to, but he was a bit too chicken to try something so forward.

* * *

Mind over matter but things seemed a bit changed between them. However, he still wasn’t comfortable sitting near her.

If Brick’s confidence in himself hadn’t plummeted after she seemingly brushed him off a week ago, he’d have gladly taken the seat she specifically removed her bag to clear. His doubts led him to chuck such an obvious invitation to coincidence.

His usual seat near the window was being warmed by final year Mary and like the infatuated girl she was, she quickly moved to give him his favourite spot.

Boomer was an asshole for what he did… He squeezed himself into the seat next to Brick the moment Mary left her seat. Poor girl didn’t even see when the blond slipped in. All she knew and understood was that she couldn’t spend Biology period with Brick that day.

“I saw something funny just now.” Nope, Boomer wasn’t talking about the older girl’s lure. Getting back at his ex always felt gratifying, even if it meant terrorizing her friends.

Brick kneaded his temples. He was about the furthest thing from being a morning person. That said, every step he made away from his bed felt like torture. He wanted to curl back into that warm cozy thing and sleep till ten, but you’re tardy if you stroll through the school gates past 8:20.

“Boomer… it’s after eight—”

“A quarter past actually.”

“And my body hurts.”

“Well it’s not like you _get_ any ‘action’ so… practice? You could have gotten a massage or something… you have a sister.”

“You’re acting like you never met that b… uh… _her_.”

Boomer chuckled, “You could more than _afford_ to spend your money on—”

“Could I finish?”

Boomer squinted, waited ten seconds, then replied, “Okay… so are you even going to finish?”

Brick grunted, “And I didn’t get much sleep so I _can’t_ with your bullshit right now.”

Boomer shrugged, “How’s operation _get-in-Blossom’s-league_ going?”

“Fuck you.”

“So, I heard that you put on quite the show in MS yesterday.”

Brick rolled his eyes, “Hey? Do me a big one and thank your ole sweetheart for putting a pin in it, yeah?”

Boomer got silent. His hands, a bit agitated, took to flipping erasers on the desk until he found a way to flip the conversation. Blossom’s free seat finally got taken, and with a mischievous smirk, Boomer contemplated whether it was worth finishing his tirade.

“When’s the last time you spoke with her?” Brick teased, relishing in the fact that he found a way to get under Boomer’s skin. He really shouldn’t have done that because it made Boomer a bit more eager to stir the pot.

Mary’s lips were tightly pressed as she hugged her textbook. Don’t think she missed the evil wink that fake-nice blonde threw at her. She knew that devil _way_ too well to assume that he stole her seat by chance.

Friends or not… Heck, _best friends_ or not, Boomer hardly ever sat next to Brick in class. They almost shared the same brain in that, the outside view was far more interesting than inside… the slight disparity is that Brick would get lost in the ambiance whereas Boomer’d painstakingly jot down every note.

Regardless of Miss Keane’s part-time jesters sitting next to each other, the class had ended uneventfully. Brick's participation — _and Boomer's by a forced extension_ — had left the teacher very vibrant and smiling at the end.

“You know, I’m still miffed, you cuck.”

“Geez, what do you think I did now?”

“Come on! You took computer science two this year instead of next! We’d be going to the same class now, but no, you had to be special.”

“Brick,” His voice serious as he stepped into the hallway, “I don’t swing that way… I know I make you giddy and stuff, but you’re coming off a little too — _hi Blossom_ — strong.” She’d been patiently waiting out in the hallway for them to leave. Unfortunately, Boomer’s greeting to her had drowned out her attempt to break the ice with Brick — _which was ironically drowned out by him._ Brick heard gargled nonsense and was none the wiser.

She felt the need to offer a bit of social reparation for her bad treatment towards him a few days prior. Like seriously… Blossom felt like an asshole. Almost everyone she’d befriended was on good terms with him. She just _had_ to ruin her impression with her judgmental temperament.

Sixth form — _especially in Poakey Oaks Academy_ — wasn’t easy to get into. Even if he was mediocre there, he’d still be slightly above average in another school. Also… she kind of couldn’t shake him out of her thoughts recently. Blossom understood fundamentally that not everyone would like her, but she couldn’t accept his dislike when she’d been trying so hard to forge a friendship. People liked her. She was likeable; heck! Lovable! Extending herself to this degree was embarrassing. She’d never felt this invisible in her life!

Brick barely reciprocated the friendly wave at the field yesterday and she was certain he’d forgotten about her shortly after. Maybe it was a mind over matter kind of thing or her lack of knowledge about the game, but Blossom thought he seemed different when he played. Princess also vouched for him… so there was that, but she was more focused on the comradery he shared with his peers. She’d previously perceived Brick to be a daydreamer and a loner. Seeing him look so bold, charismatic and alert was… kind of stunning… and she’d be lying if she didn’t see the appeal when he tore his vest off for that mere 28 seconds. No, she wasn’t counting; _didn’t need to_. Some girls seated near her had audibly counted it in a series of giggles and gushes.

But that was beside the point! She was beginning to believe she needed to cut her losses now. In her mind, Brick had flat out ignored her a few seconds ago. Heck! He didn’t even give sitting next to her a second thought. Blossom understood that it was stupid to mull over small things like this, but she just really needed to apologize.

Brick adjusted his backpack, “Get over yourself. You’re absolute shit to date.”

“Bro what?” Boomer scoffed, “Says who?”

“You really want the list?”

Boomer was silent, rolling his eyes and pouting.

“Because I can —” he paused, his mind rendering what had just transpired. He passed a look of disbelief between the two as Boomer engaged in light conversation with Blossom.

“Well, you made our teacher’s day, so I’d say it was worth it.” He’d heard Blossom answer.

Boomer wiped his face in agony, “I got peer-pressured, Blossom! _Peer_. _Pressured_! Do you know how awkward it was to answer questions like that?”

“It’s nothing really.” She thought he was being _such_ a drama queen.

“It. Was. HELL!” Boomer grimaced and jabbed a finger at the lost-for-words Brick, “And I blame _you_.”

Usually at times like this, Brick’d use it as an excuse to start a fight and get a few punches in. Boomer didn’t mind since he liked the dumb brawls they had, but, something else was on Brick’s mind, ‘ _you two are friends_?’ Except, the words weren’t spoken from his lips but from quizzical brows and a very cagey shrug.

Blossom, in a desperate attempt to finally talk to the guy, answered. "We have Chem 1 and Bio 1 together.” She felt stupid after mentioning the second course. "He's one of — _maybe_ — three students I see every day in a class. "

"Oh yeah? And what classes you take?" He rushed to answer; _was that too obvious_? Was he trying too hard? Should he have played it cooler? Brick’s family moved most of his life. Being the new kid was his thing, so he wasn’t even sure if he’d been approaching her right.

“Well, you already know I take Bio 1 and Med Studies 1… because we're in the same class." Okay… _not_ organic, but she believed she could fix her awkward wording.

"I'm pretty sure he _barely_ noticed." Boomer teased to which made Brick roll his eyes. That patronizing shoulder pat was a sneaky move on Boomer’s part and Brick was sure he’d ‘accidentally’ forget Boomer’s birthday when it rolls over in a few passing months.

"I saw her in class yesterday." He stated pointedly.

"You must have been _so surprised_!" _He was._

"Yeah? Piss off, Boom."

Blossom tried not to giggle too openly at their playful friendship and waited out their banter before continuing, "Then, as I mentioned before, I have Bio 1 that I share with Boomer," she exchanged a friendly look with the boy, "and Law 1 with Princess."

"Ooh, _that's_ how you know her!" he blurted.

"She's good people."

"You clearly don't know her... You should hear her talk with Brick... Just non-stop ju—"

Brick hit the backside of Boomer's dumbass head, "Quite cheeky for a traitor, aren’t we? Don’t you have a class to piss off to soon?"

"Yes. Chem 1 with _Blossom_." He’d said it with an obvious tease. Brick can continue spewing his rubbish, but Boomer understood that behind Brick’s stony persona, he probably really liked the girl.

Blossom looked between the boys in a query, "Well, _I_ think she's good people... boyfriend?" her eyes focused on Brick.

Okay, how was she not shy on eye contact? That girl was bold in ways Brick couldn’t begin to understand. But enough of that, she just said something that confused the living fuck out of him! “Pardon?”

“You’re dating right?”

“Come again?”

Blossom felt awkward, “You and Princess… power couple?”

Brick's urge to squint and either ask _'the fuck you on?_ ' or tell her to ' _get the fuck out of there_ ' was suppressed by his need to leave a good impression.

Boomer cackled, "Oh, he wishes."

"I don't." Brick’s voice became throaty, deep, and quite possibly… shiveringly pleasant.

"Mmhmm, sure you don’t."

"Jesus... I'm not... doing this with you right now." he rolled his eyes walking away "And no, I'm single."

Boomer smirked, "Brick… told you already… I don't swing that way."

"You know what? Fuck off! And I'm not even looking. Fuck off again!" Brick countered. He usually tried to limit the harshness of his sentence enhancers, but bloody Boomer was pushing all his buttons. That crafty blond had Brick stumbling and stammering as though he had something to prove… and he didn’t! He swore.

"That’s what all you forever-alone teenagers say."

"I will seriously punch you, Ainsley.”

“Ooh, you’re getting formal now? I get it, and it sounds to me like you’re pitching to upgrade your usual detention to a suspension? Come on! Give ole’ Ainsley here a nice suspension worthy pu—"

"Enough, Boomer." Blossom blandly chided as she looked at her phone screen, "We've got under three minutes before intermission’s all done. The good seats’ll be gone if we dawdle any longer."

"You could always sit next to Dexter.”

Boomer had heard enough from Butch to start his own teasing and Brick’s ears were on full alert now. Thanks for reminding Brick of his stupid jealousy! Now the memory of her at his practice match was nothing but a greyscale memory.

"No.” She folded her arms and looked at the floor. Her legs kicked shyly as she tried to find a respectable way to provide her reasoning, “His handwriting is horrid.” She had worse things to say, like the way he’d sometimes mumble while he wrote, or his bad restless leg syndrome, or… well, let’s just say that there was _a lot_. “I also don’t fancy how he takes notes. It’s… a sight."

"OCD much?"

"I'm leaving you," she turned to Brick and nodded, "Brick," and very playfully, Boomer did the same and followed behind with a skip.

Brick was left feeling sour because he'd heard a name he didn't want to hear again. The idea that they’d probably be eating lunch again in that club room was sickening. To be honest, he wasn’t upset that Blossom’s time was expended on someone else. After all, he only wanted them to be friends, _right_? He just hated being second place to that jerk. Call him petty, but Brick was still peeved at how rude Dexter had been to him when he first transferred in.

Drats. The idea that he’d spent his last free minutes thinking about that jerk was absolutely depressing. It made working on his pseudocode algorithm fairly decent and that spoke volumes. Brick’s computer science teacher issued tips as she showed yet another mock example on the interactive board. He’d be lying if he said the class didn’t have its low points. Computer science jargon wasn’t something that usually agreed with him. For starters, he hated using American spellings, finding errors in his 100+ line code was dog shit and online help was very limited. If his lightbulb didn’t spark there or in cram class, it’d spark weeks too late from when it was needed. He hated that… but… it also had its rewards; the best being how focused it made him.

Brick was always the type of guy to be stuck in his own head. Since his family changed housings every few years, he tended to superficial friendships. Sure, it made moving on easier, but opening up to others became difficult; especially with kids his age. Brick usually wasn’t shy when it came to speaking his mind. In fact, some would say he was also a bit prone to giving out too much information. However, when it came to connecting with someone, he was stumped.

Funnily enough, even though he’d been the muse for at least three of his mother’s child psychology books, whatever damage he had was in dire need to be fixed. He still spaced out periodically, he still flipped through moods in weird bursts, and despite the growing number of people who referred to him as a friend, he still struggled to form emotional connections.

People would always come and go as they please. Why put himself out there only to get burned? He’d rather be emotionally stunted than be a hurt fool. 

* * *

Brick dumped his school bag on Princess’s bench as he plopped to sit. "Why does Blossom think we're dating?" his voice, very curt and his face, almost pissed.

Surprised, Princes fumbled with her device as she tried to hide it under her jeans-clad leg. Brick rose a curious brow and snaked an arm on the back of the bench, “You’re into fags now?”

“Please, vapes are far safer.”

“I’d love to see the journals supporting that fact.”

Princess rolled her eyes when he’d reach for the stick for further scrutiny. He pursed his lips as if to comment but instead studied the device further.

“Look, just needed to see what's all the buzz... heard it was in.” There was a sullen shrug inserted when she spoke, but Brick chose not to take notice of it.

“Yeah? And how was it?”

“Hate it."

Brick grimaced after he’d taken a sharp inhale, "This’ scented air... It's stupid." He pitched it in her pond, “And it can kill you… I think.”

"Yet you threw it for my _very expensive_ koi to eat.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, go get it.”

Took Brick a good ten minutes fishing it out, and most of that time was spent peeling off his school uniform. Why he didn’t bother going home before berating her was beyond him.

“Okay! So now…” she stressed on the vowel, “Now, I’m grossed out. Brick, you didn’t even wipe before you puffed.”

“It was under your pants.”

“Jeans.”

“It was wiped enough.”

“Gross.”

“Like your lungs.”

“I didn’t even get through half!”

“So this is what minted people do when they’re bored? I think upper-middle is where I’ll stay.”

She pouted, “Save it for someone who cares. I’m almost 18 so I’m getting my last bit of rebellion out.” This type of half-assed reasoning wasn’t uncommon for Princess. In all honesty, the Morbucks should have gotten her a younger sibling to have her preoccupied because she stayed wilding.

“Get a belly ring like the usual bints.”

“I’m not usual and I’m above ‘bints’.”

Brick rolled his eyes, “What’s the point of rebelling?”

“Parental attention? I don’t know… look, I’ll try many things once.” She grunted, looked at her nails, then finally addressed Brick's dumb question, "How am I supposed to know? Blossom’s the one who talks about you, all I said was that you’re not as dumb as you look."

"She talks about me?"

"Yeah… poor girl wanted to know what's your deal. No offense, but you play the ‘hopeless idiot’ role like a pro.”

Brick squinted, “And if you meant offense…”

“When’s the last time you cried?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, save your judgments because Blossom _just_ transferred in. It’s not her fault the class clown made a 180 out of the blue… or… _is it_?"

"She called _me_ the class clown?" he was very selective in his answers.

"Oh honey, that’s all me. But I’m sure she’d share my sentiments.”

“And why exactly would she?”

“Listen, when she first ranted, you sounded like a mini Butch, and good Lord… I’ve contemplated running him over with my car more times than legal.”

“Huh, remind me when running someone over with a car became legal?” Princess’ nonchalance towards her more aggressive hypotheticals low-key terrified Brick. There’s a part of him that believed she meant everything she said and that… well, he was on her good side and he planned to stay there! “Plus, you don’t have a car. You have an SUV! And overpriced one at that!”

“BMWs are safe and comfortable. I wouldn’t call it _overpriced_.”

“Some people don’t make half of what your _car_ costs in a year, Princess.”

“That must really suck, but I don’t see how that’s _my_ problem.”

He giggled. He had to. Explaining wealth disparity to Princess was a waste. No, she wasn’t oblivious to her privilege, she simply didn’t give a hoot. Her money isn’t going to the grave with her, so she planned to spend as much as she wanted while she was still breathing.

“Well, your _car_ is bigger than a bloody truck.”

She sighed, “Car, tank, SUV… same difference. I’m ramming it.”

“Except, you’d make roadkill out of a bear with your _car_.”

“I _know_ right!” she exclaimed rather unexpectedly, “Butch is so lucky I have a heart.”

Brick cringed, "He's not even that bad."

"Try sharing a class with him.”

“But isn’t Butch doing a bunch of business courses?”

“The marketing ones, why?”

“You’re doing law with Blossom, so, I’m confused…”

“Stalking her now?”

“She told me.”

“ _Sure_ , she did.”

Brick pinched the bridge of his nose. Heaven knows why he chose to waste the rest of his evening being teased by this scary woman, “Just answer the question.”

“ _Whoa_ there boy, you don’t have near enough money to act like a _daddy_.”

“Yikes.” He said plainly.

“And why can’t I do both?”

“You’re just going to take over from your father anyway, why waste time in another field? That’s not like you.”

She grinned slyly, “Wouldn’t hurt to study law.”

“You want to be a lawyer?” If not his voice, then his face expressed utter disbelief.

“No, but I want to own them.”

He paused, looked at her koi pond, and smiled falsely, “I’m sorry I asked.”

She grinned, “I won’t have _just_ a team of lawyers, I’ll own a _firm_ of —”

“Nope, I already apologized for asking.”

She giggled, “Just clarifying.”

He pursed his lips and faked a headache. Princess always had a bunch of schemes for the shady shit she planned to do once she finished college and entered the working world. He’d prefer to keep his nose clean just in case one of them fell through and he’d have to testify on her behalf.

“You mentioned wanting to be friends with her before, right?”

He looked at her with caution.

“ _You said that before, right?_ ” This woman knew how to lay her traps.

“Yeah… but I’m not comfortable with the way you’re saying it. I swear, sometimes… sometimes I think you’re worse than Boomer.”

Kind of late for that epiphany but Princess just enjoyed the peacefulness of her backyard. Large acres were hard to come across in London so, despite her family’s wealth, her backyard only had a pool, koi pond, and a patio. Sometimes she’d find it bland, but after visiting any of her classmates’ flat, she was grateful for what she had.

“One question, how did you get in here?”

“Jumped your fence.”

“ _Please_ … as if.”

“Security let me in.”

“Great, guess I need to have a talk with him later.”

Alone, silence was comforting, but now that she’d had company — _even though unwelcomed_ — it was near deafening. “She stayed near the end of your practice yesterday.”

 _He was **not** getting excited. _“So did you.”

“I went to see sweaty guys with clung jerseys like the rest of the girls.”

“Wow, you thirst so much for me.” He said monotonously.

“Ha!” was all she said and to be honest, he’d be lying if his pride wasn’t fucking shattered. Buttercup could take a dig out of him when she tried, but Princess… sometimes made him feel like they’re in two separate worlds and that pissed him off.

“You know, I said ‘she’, but I didn’t give a name.”

Brick rolled his eyes, “The context Princess… and you’re also trying to imply that _Blossom_ went there to see me play. I see through it so you can drop that game.”

“Ha!” _This fucking woman._ “Let’s say that.” She pulled out her phone to start a text, “If it makes you feel any better, I said great things about you.”

“Why?” He wasn’t going to entertain the idea of owing her a favour… not that what Princess did was a favour to him. He was doing quite fine on his own!

She shrugged, “Your father’s done a great job of making Townsville not suck that much. Let’s just say that no good deed goes unpunished.”

Brick laughed slightly, “You know, every time I talk to you I feel like drinking wine.”

“Nothing under 1990 and I can make that happen.”

“I was joking.”

“You seem like a single malt kind of guy.”

“Why are you like this?”

“My guests never go home with their stomachs in hand… and… before you talk, you’re only changing the subject since you’re too shy to talk about _Blossom_.” She pulled no punches, “I’m not stupid, Brick. After that day at the lockers when you were lit.er.ally gawking, you turned into the student of the year. Straight facts, hun. Coincidences don’t exist.”

“I’ve always been a good student.”

“Brick, if you only got detention three times a month, that was a good month. I’ve always wanted to ask this, but do they just expunge those things from your record?” She chuckled into the next sentence, “Because there’s no way you’d still have all those scholarships looming over your head if they knew.”

“What can I say? I’m a hot number.”

She grimaced, “ _Right_ … so about Blossom now.”

“I came here on a lovely Friday evening to catch up with my friend.”

“It’s Thursday and I’m _pretty sure_ you came to ask me — _and I quote_ — ‘ _Boo-hoo, why does Blossom thinks we’re dating?_ ’. If you’d like to know, the proper answer is that I don’t know Brick, and I don’t care.”

Wasn’t sure if it was her confidence or her brazenness that made Brick amazed, but he was grateful for the trolley of treats that rolled to their bench. His eyes were fixated on the glass bottle placed in the middle of the server’s trolley. “That’s… whiskey…”

“For my afternoon tea.”

He squinted, “Another one of your rebelling stints?”

“I’m parched and I have to listen to you tip-toe over your stupidly obvious crush. This is therapy. Now could you get to the part where you thought that stupid rumour was so dire to barge in here without even texting?”

“I did.”

She looked at her phone, “And I left you on read… do you not understand social cues? Should I teach them to you for Blossom’s sake?”

“I don’t even like her like that, and I think she’s into someone already.”

She almost laughed, “Dexter? Old news.” If Brick thought Buttercup and Boomer’s taunts were bad, he was in for a treat. “It’s so obvious! They hang out _every_ lunch break… just the two of them.”

“It’s a group.”

“Oh? Friends are being invited now? Tell me something Brick, were _you_ invited?”

Brick kept his calm. If he raged out now, Princess would just finish what she started in school tomorrow… with an audience… without filters. “As I said, I don’t like her like that.”

“So why did it matter if she’s _into someone else_?”

“Simply _clarifying_ a point.”

“Well, she’s out of your league anyway.”

_Checkmate._

“Pardon.”

“Dexter’s more her speed.”

"Who? Plastic surgery Dexter?"

“Brick, please. All the boy did was get a proper face peel, fixed the nose that Mitchel broke during dodgeball, and fixed his overbite.”

Brick rolled his eyes.

“Okay, seems like you keep forgetting that you’re new to these streets. Dexter’s dad’s a real catch and his mother’s out of this world… like come on! You’ve seen Deandra.” She tried to explain and when he seemed like he was throwing a silent fit, she confidently finished, “Since puberty fixed him… I imagine it’ll do wonders for you too soon Mathews.”

"I’m not trying to be your type, Princess."

"Ha. My type’s black-card equipped, darling. You’d be a cute platinum at best… if you put in the work. But… no, no… nice try though. You’re super _cute_.”

“Whatever,” he moped grabbing a scone, “Wow! Mum’s?”

“She doesn’t cook.”

He looked through the glass sliding door and eyed the... what was she? Maid? Caretaker?”

“Ima doesn’t cook either.”

“I’m not going to believe that you—”

“Bakery-ordered of course.” She couldn’t believe that Brick would even make that assumption. He’d seen her with smores… he should have known better, “There’s a reason we have a kitchenette instead of a kitchen.”

“Cool flex.”

“You know it.” She grinned, “Fine, fine! They’re not dating.” She put her half-eaten tart back on her plate and sighed. Guilt wasn’t something Brick thought she’d felt so whatever mood swing took over her made him cautious.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I like to see monkeys dance.” The way she looked up with glassed eyes and a confounded face was in contrast with her insult. Brick wasn’t sure if it was a nice girl act or she was trying to undo some of her bad karma but… he was grateful.

“And people say we’re friends.”

“Yes, I’m a friendly person.” _She was back to normal._

“As if.”

“Now, that type of attitude won’t help operation _get-in-Blossom’s_ —”

“I will murder Boomer Ainsley!”

“Relax, he’s harmless.”

Brick squinted, “I feel as though you recruited that shady devil under your wings, and I don’t like it.”

“You’re calling me an angel? So sweet!” she cooed, pouring out wine into her teacup. Since Brick was whining about the Whiskey, she’d opted for the more socially acceptable choice. “Wine?” she offered, “It’s 1989… splurged on you today.”

“Fuck you and your wine,” never mind that he’d accepted it and took a sip, “Lucifer was also an angel.”

“The prettiest, so thanks!”

Teasing was a lot more fun when he wasn’t the object of attention, but he’d gotten a few answers from her in the process. Brick had felt odd comfort in how upfront she’d been with her thoughts. Princess had said most of the things he was too chicken to say and despite her brutality, their chat had put him at ease… or the wine… or the pastries. But whatever it was, he’d felt much lighter — _and dizzier_ — than he was before.

“As much as I loved being harassed by you,”

“I refuse to be the S to your M.”

“I should be going home now.”

Uh, she wasn’t comfortable with that statement. Not one parental phone call or messages from security about a honking silver Audi parked out front? Yeah… she wasn’t drunk enough to pretend she was okay with that. “Hey, you drove here?”

He shook his head, “Taxi app.”

She flattened her lips, looked at the sunset skies, and wondered how guilty she’d feel if something happened to him after letting him go home in his slightly buzzed state. “Fine!”

“What?”

“I said I’ll drop you home!”

“There’s a driver literally five minutes from here, I’m not letting _you_ drive me home… you drank twice as much!”

“As in my driver…”

“Oh.”

“ _Yeah_.” After messaging Ima once more, she confessed, “For what it’s worth Brick, she’d love being friends with you too.” He’d been beaming too much, and it was blinding, “But… _just friends._ ”

“That’s all I wanted.”

“ _Sure_.”

“I swear.”

“You’re in my Sunday prayers, Brick.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Staci Hwang** : Mojo Jonesin' - Season 02 Episode 12B (originally unnamed)  
>  **Mary** : Mojo Jonesin' - Season 02 Episode 12B 
> 
> Um, hi! If anyone is interested, my Tumblr is n-risa.tumblr.com. I'd appreciate it if you watch it via desktop or android/ios browser as compared to the app. You don't see the HTML coded pages via the app so it'll come up as empty. Ty!


	3. All I wanna do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his long-awaited chat, Brick finally allows himself to admit something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than usual.

* * *

At some point in time, the pupils at Pokey Oaks Academy need to label the words ‘ _mock exams_ ’ as taboo. Even at first when only three teachers had mentioned it, the school’s atmosphere was heavily distorted. At Blossom’s old school, those two words put together meant nothing short of an over-glorified midterm exam. However, here at the academy, it meant overcaffeinated, baggy-eyed kids with their eyes glued to their notes and their focus stuck on study groups. Well, one thing’s for sure, the young Bellum wasn’t really here for it.

Being distracted meant not asking the questions she deemed pertinent when the opportunity arose. Oddly, her fingers nervously twiddled with a loose strand on the cuff of her school blazer instead of wrapping themselves tightly around a silver pen while leaving smooth curves on her notepad. There was a genuine surprise after she had heard the bell rung. In a last-minute attempt, her teacher made it her mission to reiterate as much as she could while the students packed their stuff away.

Her classmates groaned.

Let’s just say, Tort Law and the legal system weren’t concepts that could easily be crammed within a little under two weeks’ time. While they shrugged their backpacks on to tread out the room, Blossom remained rooted to her seat.

_No; keep walking.  
She wasn’t interested in study groups. _

Too caught in her own head, she mulled over the thought that she wasn’t much of the socialite she’d previously assumed. Being born into a family well-engaged in politics, she’d always pride herself in her social skills and grace but as of late, she wasn’t too sure.

Brick made her feel invisible. Had her opinions of him not shifted slightly, she wouldn’t care less but… oh come on! After that show he put on last Wednesday, how could she _not_ be curious about him? For the two classes they shared most of the school term, Brick hardly seemed the type to be interested in his studies. From what she’d observed, the boy was prone to skipping, drifting off, or doing the absolute bare minimum during times when others were well-focused. Yet last week he’d been answering difficult questions as if it was child’s play and soon after, transformed into a diligent student. So fine, she noticed him. He seemed smart, athletic, and easy on the eyes. The problem was, she didn’t understand him, and her curiosity was getting the best of her.

_No._  
_She still wasn’t interested in joining a study group.  
Please go away._

Sacrificing her lunch periods to beef up her college portfolio was slowly driving her insane. Top tier universities loved it when their prospective students looked like a light of shining beacon. Blossom… was starting to regret allowing her sixth form studies to take up so much of her time. The thing was… even though constantly surrounding herself with teenagers of high ambitions had its merit, it was mentally taxing and almost mind-numbingly boring. She honestly didn’t care if Susan’s life goal was to be accepted into ten ivy league schools or how badly Delores wanted to outdo her elder siblings’ academic achievements. Blossom just wanted the motivation to keep studying as hard as she was. That was all.

_Still not interested in joining a study group._

Talking to Brick was a feat hard to accomplish. For all the times she’d seen him during the week, he’d either been preoccupied with his studies, deeply engaged in a conversation, or playing footie; _aggressively_. The ‘stick-to-himself or a small group’ boy she’d observed was almost non-existent in the haze of a scholarly rush. Almost impossible for her to believe, but even after a week’s worth of attempts, just finding an opening to chat proved exceedingly difficult.

At this point, she was desperate.  
Heck, at this point, she was willing to try _anything_.

“Ay, Princess?” Okay… _that_ was an accident. If her fellow Law 1 classmates could’ve just exited the class without bothering her, she wouldn’t have committed a potential social suicide. Her pores rose from shock, and she quickly tried to rub the sensation away.

Well, it had already happened.

Princess had stopped in her tracks, eyes reluctantly leaving her cell to look back into class, and oh crud! Blossom knew she had to see through it because backing down was against her family’s motto. Naturally, the hand that was about to touch Blossom’s desk cowered at the sound of Princess’ name. Said girl briefly pushed her attention to Blossom with caution. She’d clutched her phone after sending a text and went on to properly shoulder her messenger bag as she navigated her way to the desk. By the care Princess had taken and her awkward gestures, Blossom could tell this one was new. The polished leather beauty was the perfect topic-changing diversion she needed but… her mind had been too settled on her dilemma to care… and she already promised herself that she’d see this through.

“How can I start a conversation?”

At first, Princess just blinked. She’d even taken into consideration that Blossom did **not** look okay when she’d asked. However, with a skipped breakfast, annoying school mates and a terrible data plan, she wasn’t going to easily dismiss such a pointless question, “Come again?”

Blossom inhaled deeply as she rose. With the class damn near vacated, ice-box temperatures were quickly approaching. So, if she was going to let herself be a clown, she was at least going to do it in the warmth of the hallways. “I asked—”

“Oh _Honey_ ,” a visible cringe, “Was that _really_ a serious question?”

Either Blossom didn’t understand sarcasm, or she didn’t care. “Of _course_ it was!” Princess’ snark was much to be expected. Truthfully, if she’d chosen to walk away, Blossom wouldn’t have blamed her. The question was dumb no matter how she looked at it. “And… _and_ it's one I’m having a bit of difficulty with.”

“Well, would you look at that?” The sun-spotted teen looked so bored with the topic already, “You just started one with me! See! Fixed it. You’re _welcome_!”

“Ay!” Blossom pouted, “I’m _honestly_ asking you for advice.”

Princess flattened her lips in disbelief. The idea that people were _consciously_ coming to _her_ for advice was becoming burdensome and unsettling. She wasn’t Dr. Phil nor was she trying to be anything close to it, “You know, you look a wee rough there.” She signalled Blossom to hasten down the hallways.

The design of their school was rather peculiar at first. Blossom had never been to one that seemed to box a scenic garden in the middle. The hallway looped to the staircase which housed all the lockers belonging to the upper and lower sixth forms. It was the first place Brick had noticed her, and since it was usually very trafficked, she’d missed how entranced he was by her.

She looked down the stretch of lockers in hopes to see even a glimpse of him that afternoon. It was a long shot, she knew. The law classes were housed on the opposite side of the building and had their bags not been heavy, they’d just used the back stairs and risk bumping into an amorous couple or two.

“What? Stayed up all night?” Princess made idle talk as she rummaged her locker.

“Time somehow slipped past 4.”

“How many cups of coffee are you on now?”

“No coffee, but two energy drinks.”

“Yikes,” She turned to make sure she met Blossom’s eye, “You look about one short.”

“Thanks.” Blossom pulled out a brown paper bag before shutting closed her locker door. Again, she glanced a bit further down the hall for even the slightest glimpse of him, but it was to no avail. “I’m dead serious. I keep getting ignored every time I try.”

Princess shrugged. It was the best answer she could muster. She’d been tinkering with her phone while she waited on Blossom to finish, and she’d been much displeased with her findings, “Today’s menu sucks!” She took a sip from her once frozen can of tea. “Who in their right mind gives studying students this much starch?”

Blossom squinted, “I’ve seen how you eat; you don’t ‘ _do_ ’ diet… and what’s wrong with starch?”

Barely registering the sentence, she mumbled, “I’m too hungry to even care anymore… So about your question, yeah? Have you ever, I don’t know, thought of telling him ‘ _hi_ ’ or even ‘ _good morning_ ’? He’s one of those ‘systematically nice people’, you get what I mean?” _Of course Princess air-quoted it_ , “So he has to return the pleasantry… almost disgusting. Being nice gets you almost nowhere… you should know.”

“I _am_ nice.” Blossom didn’t miss that attempt of a dig.

“Whatever.”

“And… I never said it’s a ‘ _he_ ’.”

“Are we going to pretend we’re not talking about Brick now?” She took a deep, almost frustrated breath, “Because I’m not good at pretending.”

Without even a thought, she replied. “No.” and trailed behind Princess like a small child. “But could you not,” she began to whisper, even looking up the staircase to see if there were many students. “talk _so_ loud. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“Honey,” There was a small echo that followed the stairwells, but it usually got muffled by the sea of voices that flooded it, “No one here would think you like him anyway.”

“What?” she said with much surprise. Understanding that Blossom was a girl secretly driven by her pride wasn’t something most people got. What people worried about and she worried about were two completely different things. She was trying to fix the cracks in her image, not chase feelings. “Who said anything about liking him? I barely even know the g—”

“So, what’s up with all this secrecy? I— You know what? I… don’t even care. The both of you are... My god. Just go up to him and say ‘hi’... That’s all. Hell! Bloody Hell! In fact. go do it now!”

“You’re not listening. I’ve tried that... _been_ trying that and he’s ignored me every. single. time.”

“Well, did you say it loud?” The patronizing tone was accidental. She wasn’t even trying to be rude.

“Again… ignored _every_ time.”

“Could just be a misunderstanding.”

“Okay… well… listen this! I tried leaving a seat for him and he skipped over it!”

“Did you ask him to sit with you when he passed?”

“I moved my bag for him.”

“Okay,” she smiled, “Brick’s supposed to be able to read Blossom now? Child _please_.”

“What about… I tried waiting after class to talk to him but... “

“Let me guess, you just looked at him and expected him to know you were waiting on him?”

“No, I said hi, and only Boomer responded.”

“How’s he supposed to know you were talking to him?”

“I said ‘Hi Brick’.”

“Did you say it loud?”

“Princess.”

“ _What_ ,” she whined. “Goddammit! What is it with…” she caught her tongue, “ _people_ thinking I’m the go-to advice-giving person?”

“You give honest answers.”

“And?”

“Come on, Princess! You two are good friends. I’m starting to think that I’m the problem.”

“Yeah, ditto.”

“Okay, what made you so cranky today?”

“I’m hungry and you’re talking too much.” She whined.

“We’re almost at the cafeteria anyway, so I’ll try you when you’re full.”

_Yeah; no._

“Blossom?” Princess asked sweetly.

“Yes?”

“Could you kindly fuck off and stop talking to me?”

* * *

Last period Biology met them with no disruptions. Miss Keane took the time to share a few exam tips and studying strategies until the class lull cooled to a staggering dread. There was panic in some eyes. They had until this Friday and the next to get the bulk of all the content they’ve learnt thus far committed to memory. For most crammers, it just wasn’t happening. The big exam was fast approaching, and it was stupid of some to think that their mock exams wouldn’t cover the academic year’s syllabus. In fact, by Miss Keane’s standards, a student’s job is to study, not cram. Students with parents spending this much on tuition shouldn’t be breaking any sweat over a test paper. Everything there should’ve already been learnt.

Despite the half-inch taller-than-usual pumps and wickedly gripping skirt she wore, Miss Keane was the first to exit the class when the bell rung. The students’ voices rose expeditiously. Most complaining, few boasting.

Boomer fit into neither category. In fact, he’d been particularly amused by his teacher, “Looks like somebody’s getting some.”

Annoyed, Robin crept up to where he was standing and stretched his cheek playfully. Boomer groaned, of course, roughly shoving his text into his messenger bag before zipping it shut. “This mouth of yours like saying some nasty— Oi! Brick? Where’re you going?”

Brick tugged at his shirt with much distaste then twisted his lips into an uncomfortable grimace, "I smell like ass!" He confessed, twisting his shoulder to the side to allow a student to pass by him.

The way he plopped on the desk with such a lazy smile was simply breathtaking. Slouched slightly, fixing his knapsack on his back and tightening it until it hugged his shoulder blade almost sent Robin’s mind into overdrive. Why? Well… he had a strong pair of shoulders that housed a muscle or two. When the fabric pulled against his shirt, Robin could see — _even through his blazer_ — the bit of definition in his chest… _mostly her imagination, but she was a proud dreamer_. A second thing to note. His hair freaking glistened. Good grief! The way it cascaded down his face when he’d look down for just a few seconds wasn’t really good for her heart.

As much as she wasn’t a fan of his personality. His face, his body, and sometimes his scent? Yeah, totally her type. So understandably, she was just a few seconds away from losing it.

“What’s with you?” Brick asked.

“Your button… shirt button… Let me fix it.”

“Thanks, but no thank you.” He said tiredly, checking his shirt himself.

Brick had a casually flirty nature that always caught people by surprise. Maybe it was because he moved a lot as a child. He treated most girls the way he’d treat his sister… well, back in the days when she was a little bit nicer to him. He’d sometimes hover, completely unaware of what his proximity to them implied. In his head, the girls were just friendlier than the boys and he never got to stick around a city long enough to be told otherwise.

Things were different here though. Most kids stuck to their own devices, only coming together in a small circle of friends or for a good gossip. It was part of the reason he’d been relatively hands-off here, and also why some of his actions were grossly misunderstood. He leaned in to Robin’s words with eyes studiously fixed on her. Of course, her face had been a bit heated after thinking about how hot he looked that time.

"But you, you…” she really needed to get it together, “You smell like you showered."

"For about five minutes… Do you see how bright it is outside?”

“Are you off your rocker? It’s overcast… It was drizzling just a few minutes ago.”

“Well it wasn’t at lunch!” he defended, his fingers tugging at his shirt and sniffing with displeasure, “And a five-minute shower cannae erase forty minutes kicking ball in that sodding sun."

"Geez!” she groaned, “Don’t go yelling at me you dramatic clean freak.” Brick just knew how to erase his appeal. Sometimes it was just one word, sometimes he’d take a whole sentence, but most of the times she’d assumed he was cute enough to flirt with… Brick opens his mouth and she was over it.

“Robin _please_.”

“I'm sure the other guys—”

Brick’s accent really shone when he’d been slightly tilted. As much as he’d try denying or hiding it, his use of shorter vowels, dark L’s and the way his R’s had a rich articulation at the back of his mouth showed a greater variety of Northern British than the South West he usually claimed. “At lunch, Butch said ‘ _fuck you_ ’ to the warning bell and continued showering. And, you know? He played basketball _indoors_. So don’t come at me with this ‘ _dramatic_ ’ rubbish.” He stretched. Even looked at his skin as though its epidermis was mud-caked and sweaty. “And about the other guys, I’m _positive_ they feel just as grimy as me."

"You’ll get to where you’re going _soon_. I promise I’ll let you after.”

“Home, to my shower.”

“ _Right_ ,” She widened her eyes in annoyance. “Just... Oh! Wait. Blossom! Wait up!" she called out, and Brick suppressed his blush at the sleepy-eyed, half squinted and yawning Blossom who looked their way. "Come here, come here!"

She honestly didn’t need to be asked twice. Blossom had previously calculated three or more ways to join in their conversation and failed. Being invited to it was a Hail Mary pass she simply refused to skip.

“And what’s everyone on about?” Humble, soft-spoken… you know to mask her enthusiasm and what not. Her eyes passed over Boomer with haste and settled on Brick who’d been busy fiddling with his school tie. “Hi guys.” Definitely couldn’t call out to Brick first, and she’d feel weird ending with his in case she’d stretch it.

"Okay so… Brick! Come on! Just wait up!”

“I am… but could you let go of my blazer? You’re wrinkling it.”

It was a reflexive action. Brick was the type to weasel his way out of a conversation the moment the first distraction showed. She wasn’t going to risk texting and being ignored her proposal, so she’d acted without thinking. “I’m sorry Mr. Neat freak.”

“Neat my ass.”

“Thank you, Boomer, for finally joining the conversation.” Brick groaned.

“She was talking to you; I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You didn’t want to interrupt because you were busy flirting.”

“Jesus, it’s like I can’t talk to a girl anymore these days.”

“Oi, just a joke. No need to ruffle your feathers.”

“I just want to go home.” Boomer groaned, his hands passing through his hair and caught up in a knot or two, “And I’m due for a trim.”

“Butch and I have a trade.” Robin originally planned to ease her way into her request, but she figured that it was best to just be blunt with those dodgy jerks. They looked at her with query, Brick prying himself off the desk and Boomer getting closer to the girl.

“Walk with me,” she ushered the small group out of the class, “His dad promised to look over our answers as long as _my_ parents look over his."

"That doesn’t seem quite fair. Your parents aren’t even lecturers."

"Brick, if I may? Please allow me to finish?”

“Go on.”

“Both mines graduated first-class honours in Business… and even without that, mum’s got a few ads on the telly and billboards. Butch’s in Media studies and Marketing, right?”

“Correct,”

“Mum’s got that covered whilst Dad’s good for his finance and management courses.” Prideful, she boasted, “Needless to say, he’s got the better trade.”

“Fair. Fair.”

“So, on to my point. My study group _needs_ more members.”

“No offense, but do you really need a study group when your work is going to be checked over by a Biochem Professor?”

Robin sighed, “Yes… I still have few weak points to cover and I’m a bit low on resources.”

Even though Boomer nodded in understanding, Brick wasn’t a fan of the pity pitch she was throwing, “I have my own Bio group.”

“Same.” Boomer’s grin was sly, and so was his exchanged look to Brick. “So sorry. Good luck though.”

Robin rolled her eyes, “And that’s why I’m inviting _all_ the members of your group to come join mines.”

“Well, our group actually has three members.” Boomer started.

“Three?” Brick clarified… because the past week at Boomer’s only saw two.

“Brick did you forget,” his scheming voice made Brick a tad bit uncomfortable, “It’s me, you and your eg- oh… you’re wrinkling my shirt you _animal_.”

Robin groaned, “Boys! Seriously! I’m also trying to get Blossom on my team. Couldn’t you opt-out of your Broomer moment for a hot second?”

“Me?” Blossom asked confused. “I, I um. I’ve never been in a study group before… well… never a good one. I just think it’s more of a horses for courses kind of thing.”

The chance that Brick may also join made that firm ‘no’ a bit hard to say. It’s not like she’d be wasting her time if her scripts were to be properly marked, but she’d still prefer to study alone. The last group study she’d been to was just an extravagant display for one of her classmates to flaunt his knowledge and wealth. Did she learn from him? Yes? But she’d been super peeved and disgusted for days after.

“Trust and believe, we give and decide roles in our group! We’re totally not here to piggy-back you.”

“Thanks… I suppose.”

Almost immediately, Brick offered some support which made Robin shocked beyond belief. She expected more of a fight. Heck, she also expected a bit of begging, maybe an I-owe-you or two, and a lot of compromising on her behalf for him to say he’d consider it. Brick was a bit mean and unhelpful… him caving this easy felt like a trick and she needed clarity!

“Wait? Was that your— Did you just agree?” she wanted to get this in writing because he’d shut her down harshly for a study group last term. Mr. Jojo’s help or not, Robin knew Brick wasn’t the type to do meetups so easily.

“But o _f course_ he’d be in.” Boomer’s eyes glanced at Blossom’s frame for a moment as he closed his locker door. “The offer was just _too good_ to pass up! Oi, but I can weasel in some papers too. Mine’s are just as good as Brick’s!”

“Boys, hold on. There’re three other members who’ve already bought the good test sets, so—”

“My mum’s university is connected to a very good Citiesville preparatory high school.” Brick inserted.

“Your mum’s a lecturer?” Robin asked.

“No… that university just loves her. Uh, I guess she guest speaks there about twice a semester? I can ask for more, but it’s what Boom and I’ve been using so far.”

“I reckon that answer sheets came with them?”

“Obviously.”

“Okay, your cockiness isn’t appreciated, Mathews.”

“It’s a two for one deal, miss,” Boomer grinned, helping Blossom pack away the last of her stuff, “Him and his ego.”

Blossom honestly tried to conceal her laughter, but Boomer was too close to her to miss even the slightest of her snicker. “See! _She_ gets it.” He teased, helping her shoulder her bag as he closed her locker door.

Robin rolled her eyes, “And you Boom?”

“Brick and I’ve also been using some test papers from Farmsville. Completed with MCQs and I’ve got solutions for everything!”

“Boomer, are we doing any other subjects together?”

“No.”

“Drats! We could’ve grouped up again.”

“I have a life, Robin. I wouldn’t even.”

“Okay, well… what about this? How’d you always get your hands on these things? I swear, sometimes you’re just _too_ resourceful.”

Boomer shrugged, “Blessed?”

“That’s tosh.”

“Okay, but seriously Rob, when’re we supposed to be meeting?”

“Right!” she exclaimed, “Tomorrow afternoon is great, but I’ll add you all to the group chat this evening.” She halfheartedly laughed. “No Wi-Fi now, you know the struggles.”

“About me?” Blossom called out, “What would I be bringing if I… do join?”

“If? Oh, come on Blossom! You must join! Please, please, _please_!”

“Um,” Blossom wanted to fucking cringe, but after a stolen glance at Brick she conceded, “Maybe I can try one session?”

“Thank you!”

“Oh, you’re a hugger.”

Boomer chuckled, elbowing Brick at the laughable situation before urging Blossom to hug back. Well, she did, very awkwardly and hesitantly.

“Okay, all you have to do is bring that big beautiful brain of yours… and… maybe some snacks?"

"I wanted to bring snacks!” Boomer piped up.

"Grape soda isn't ‘ _snacks_ ’ and it just tastes purple."

"Brick? Are you taking a piss out of me? Tell me? Do we have words? Buddy, I’m ready when you are, just say when." His fists in the air and floating around Brick’s face.

"This cuck's always trying to get punched."

"No problem. It just looks to me like you want to be _suspended_ suspended."

“When.”

Not quite sure if Brick threw the punch because he saw that Butch was there, or if Boomer was exceedingly lucky, but in a matter of seconds, Brick was being detained, Boomer’s arms were properly shielding his face and Butch’s grip was strong.

“Glad to see we’re still handsy.” Butch struggled at first, but after his muscles contracted, Brick became nothing but a fly caught in a web.

“Butch, let go of me.”

“Make me.” He stressed his consonants in the most aggravating way. If there’s one guy who really knew how to rile Brick up, it was this green-eyed jerk who smelt like Irish Spring and two sprits of a spicy cologne.

"Actually Blossom,” Robin offered, “Maybe you should also bring a stick to whack them."

Boomer smirked, looking at Brick with a suggestive grin, “I think Brick would absolutely _love_ to be spanked by — yeesh!” he jumped back, “Thanks, mate! That wild pup darn near bit me."

“Any time.” Butch was built like a rock. There was no use fighting against his hold and Brick gave up after three good jerks. Honestly, his physique would have been utilized more effectively in hockey, but it was never his fancy.

Boomer joked, "For the record, hitting a small, skinny guy like me should be classified as bullying... Do I look like I could—"

"Oh, save your breath, Ainsley! We _all_ saw how ready you were to block, right Blossom?”

“I wasn’t paying attention to them.”

“I don’t blame ya, love. Those two seriously need to get a room.”

“Oh, piss off Snyder!”

“What Brick said!”

Butch laughed softly, releasing the relaxed boy, “Is this your dream team?”

“There’re three others.” Robin replied.

“Alright,” his eyes trailed to Blossom, studying the oddity of her appearance, “Your hair?”

“What happened to it?”

“It’s curly…ish.”

“Yeah?”

“Since when?”

“Always?” Seeing that the idea unsettled him, she clarified, “It’s easier when it’s not, so I flat iron it. Just, busy morning.”

“Honestly, I think it’d look better if you owned a comb — Shit, Buttercup, what the hell?”

“Do the world a favour and keep some things to yourself, please? Geez, how’s it you thought that was a good question to ask?”

“I was curious.”

“There’s rude, and there’s you.”

“I could’ve said worst. Trust me.”

“Worse, you meant to say worse.”

“Stop teaching me English, I’m too knackered for this rubbish.”

She would’ve just smacked him upside the head again, but it’d been a while since she’d seen Brick or Boomer. “Hey stranger… and Boomer.”

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Funny Blondie. So what’s up? Where’s the party at?”

“No party,” Robin grinned, "But I just realized something; Butch, BC, have you met Blossom yet?"

The name bore some familiarity, but Buttercup couldn’t really be arsed at the moment, “Should I?"

"She's great!" Robin confessed. “You’d honestly like her.”

"Blossom’s in my homeroom." Answered, already bored from the conversation.

"That’s the one with Princess, yeah?”

Butch gave Buttercup a look of warning, “You _know_ it’s the one with Princess.”

“Yikes," With a look of sympathy, Buttercup extended to Blossom a firm handshake, "Terribly sorry for our minted monster.”

“Monster?” Blossom started, but the rest of her sentence couldn’t be heard over the sound of Butch.

"I think that girl’s on her meds again. Now she’s less of a cunt and only half a bitch.”

They laughed; Brick especially since he knew the feeling of dislike was certainly mutual. Blossom though could barely relate to any of their experiences. She shuffled back, just buzzing around for an opening because she was still interested in getting that one-on-one with Brick.

Saying ‘hi’ in this situation seemed weird but as the two brunettes changed the mood to a more casual setting, she knew a chance was nearing. Blossom yawned. She’d barely gotten to cover her mouth in time and her little jerk brought Brick’s eyes towards her.

They lingered a bit, and she pondered on whether she should give a friendly wave or finally use the magic word, ‘hi’.

“H—”

“So, Blossom... You're that new transfer, yeah?” _God, why was she always interrupted?_ “Sorry we only just met; I’m Buttercup."

After the banter and a devious whisper in her ear, Buttercup understood Blossom to be that infamous girl Brick had a crush on. There was no way in hell she’d give up this opportunity to tease him. Guns cocked, and her blonde partner-in-crime just a few steps away, she rubbed her hands in delight.

Boomer continued from where she left off, _naturally_. “Don’t worry about it, BC. It took Brick _three weeks_ to realize she was in his class… es… Classes."

Butch snickered, "Classic!" instantly ruining the flow they’d already set up and that made Boomer a bit peeved.

He grimaced, "You’re one to talk. Friday morning’s homeroom. How in God’s green earth did you now notice her hair?"

“Because I came to school at break?” he answered in a questioning format, “I’m not leaving my warm bed for a stupid homeroom period. That’s bullocks.”

“Aaand that’s why you have detention. Enjoy child jail, loser.” Buttercup gave Butch a friendly chest slap before turning to Brick with a smile, “I heard Brick prefers curly-haired girls anyway.” She grinned.

“Don’t you have tennis?”

Ignore Boomer’s snickering, because even he couldn’t deliver such a final blow before leaving. Robin had been none-the-wiser and Blossom was busy reconfiguring her approach once again. Butch leaned over the staircase railing in absolute silence as he listened for Buttercup’s steps to go distant.

“Okay, so fuck her...” he mumbled, finally mustering the urge to go down himself, “God, I’m so late.”

“Bye Butch!” Robin excitedly waved. The boy just looked up with a scrimmage and continued his lacklustre walk down the stairs.

"Blossom! He’s super dreamy, isn’t he?"

"If you're into that, I guess?" After she’d been on the receiving end of Robin’s death glare, Blossom quickly fixed her words. “Yea, yea! I mean, he’s not bad on the eyes. This is another horses for courses kind of thing… he’s prolly a bit _too_ athletic for my tastes.”

“Innit? Listen this, he could _literally_ bench pres—”

“Stop this… please.”

“Grow up, Boomer.” Robin playfully swatted his shoulder with her handkerchief while he’d been the idiot to fake being hurt while running down the stairs.

Absolute children.

So… this was the awkward part. While both of them had a playful tirade down the three flights of stairs, Brick was left with Blossom and a bunch of words he wanted to say but couldn’t.

“They look like they’re having fun.”

Shocked, she froze. Took her a few seconds to register a proper answer and when she did, it was more like a rushed blur, “Yeah-and-I-guess-they’re-close!”

Brick covered his mouth with a surprised chuckle. It was safe to admit she was cute without it meaning anything. As in… the way someone looks cute when they’re flustered and not in the he-wants-to-hold-her-hands type of way.

“Should we follow?”

“I don’t think she was finished pitching her idea to us.”

 _Us._ Brick wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what she meant, but the boy was allowed to daydream once in a while wasn’t he? Just the thought that’s she’d grouped them together without being disgusted meant he was getting somewhere.

It was a bit weird walking out with someone in mostly silence. The two idiots before him were still goofing off and Blossom was simply, quiet. He wanted to change that. Needed to.

“So, where are you from?"

“Ahh…” She felt stupid. Wanted to slap her head about four times already, "Townsville?" she stuttered, then caught herself, "I mean… _meant_ , West Pokey oaks, near the lakes?"

Boomer doubled back with eyes widened. "Brick isn't that your territory?"

Brick squinted. Judging by the boy’s tone, it wasn’t a tease, but for the life of Brick, he couldn’t properly process the question.

"Well, your dad's."

Brick shrugged, "I guess... He’d done a lot of projects around that area last year. I think he personally did a few viewings himself. I wasn’t paying attention. Ask Court."

“You know I won’t.”

“Court?” Blossom asked, easing into the conversation. _That was natural, right?_

“Someone…” he sighed, trying to find a nice way to describe his sister, “My dad’s potential understudy.”

Boomer nearly tripped on the cobblestone walkway. The types of descriptions that left Brick’s mouth lately was downright hilarious.

“Oh, his intern?”

“Yeah.” Brick nodded, “Exactly.” He smiled, “But I actually meant to ask where you lived before here.” He looked at the two walking slightly ahead of him and explained, “Most the broads here never lived off Townsville... Hardcore locals. "

"Oi!" Robin playfully yelled.

"Just speaking the truth."

Blossom smiled, "Well, I don’t blame them.”

“Really? Why’s that? It’s a bit boring here innit?”

“Well, true. Even as a newcomer, the sites are dead, but it doesn’t change that here’s where people find their forever homes."

“I guess I can see that,” he tried to relate, “From a real estate perspective, when people see _actual_ houses instead of apartments or condos, they try to set roots. Especially in your case where you’ve got a lakeside view… and in London! That’s prime housing there!"

Agreeing, she answered, “You got me! And, I lived in Westminster. Emery hill street, heard of it? It's a real sight!"

"You’re kidding?”

Confused, she joked, “I kid you not! Why?”

“Why I’ve lived Westminster myself!”

“Get out of here!”

“No seriously! Thirebly road _actually_. My dad worked Francis street. Back then he was mostly into reno and I know he absolutely hated that stretch because it lacked _character_."

"What?” she giggled, mostly because Brick had an accent too far to place and it sounded nice on her ears, “Those brick buildings were magnificent! It all added to the charm!"

Robin had already left. Jumped into her mother’s minivan and waved the others bye. Boomer was still trailing the two. His urge to make a ‘Brick’ joke was quelled by his desire to see the two non-locals finally hit it off in such an upbeat conversation. Also, Brick was walking in the wrong direction. Boomer figured the boy’s just been walking in accordance to Blossom’s path so slowed his steps as to not disturb the two.

"Except, my dad's blood pressure went up every time he had to do interior work on a house identical to the last. I honestly think he’d cuss about how soul-sucking and mundane the job was. I’m not too sure, we had thick walls and thick doors. Even with an empty glass, it was hard to discern his words.”

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, “Your English is a bit rich! It reminds me of home, but the accent’s just off.”

“I just paid attention in English class, I wouldn’t exactly call it rich.”

She smiled, “I’ll give you that for now, but I do have a follow-up question.”

“I’m listening.”

“A lot of us love seeing those suburban development houses on the TV, but what makes their so special yet ours being mundane? Come to think of it, don’t theirs also look similar inside and out? Is it just because of the yard space?"

"Keywords, similar, not identical. Big difference!”

"And I take it you've _been_ to some of those places?" she was just teasing him a bit, but she hadn’t expected his answer to be a yes.

"To be honest, I was... Right before I moved here."

"Really? Where?”

Boomer left. He didn’t feel needed anymore. No need to try to bridge the gap between Brick’s awkwardness and her reservation. So, he left.

“Way far.”

She giggled, "You're talking Ireland, Scotland? Because you have just the tip of the accent."

"You think? I’ve never been there before, but I’ve lived in the north a bit? May have picked up a thing or two.”

“Ooh, really? They have big yards there?”

“Wait, wait. Before we get there, let me tell you the ‘far place’ I’m referring to.”

She giggled softly, quickly apologizing for her haste.

“I'm talking about Maryland, America."

She flattened her lips in surprise, "But you don't have an American accent. Not even in the slightest. Are you pulling my leg?"

“Honest! I was about thirteen… I think? Yeah, thirteen when I moved, then returned to England at fifteen. That’s about two years innit? Not enough to borrow an accent. At least I don’t think so.”

“Really?” she asked with such enthusiasm that he couldn’t help but blush.

“There’s a park nearby, wanna head there?”

“Sure,” almost automatic; barely much of a second thought about it.

"So my dad was just like… the project manager. He’d done a virtual presentation which they loved, but he wanted to see it in person… and he’d make a bit more money by overseeing more of it, so we ended up moving. It was probably the most exciting thing for my family because we were absolutely chuffed about the idea of living abroad!” He took a deep breath before continuing, “When we got there, yeah?” he caught himself, caught her pink eyes just staring at him in wonder and he’d blushed out of embarrassment, “Shoot... was I talking too much?"

Almost immediately she denied, "No, no! I was enjoying it... You were talking about a real estate perspective before, so I figured that’s your dad’s field, but… I’m just amazed. I always assumed it was just about buying and selling homes but you’re talking about renovating, designing… travelling? I just think it’s really cool. So please, please go on."

"Well,” he clarified, rolling his shoulders from a bit of discomfort, “Is your bag heavy?”

“No, I leave my texts at school. I scanned the pages on my tablet anyway so I don’t need to carry around that heavy load.”

“I’ll still hold it,” he offered, “Or maybe we could just take a seat on that bench.”

“Maybe, my feet could use a break.”

“Same here.”

“Bet they ache from practice.”

“Just a bit. I don’t screw around with my warmups or cooldowns, so it’s no real issue.”

“Now about your story?”

“You really want to hear it?”

“Let’s just say that I’m curious about the ending. Please, go on!”

“Well, there’s not much to it. He recently dove straight in the whole real estate mogul business but before that, he was just a renovator making his way up the chain. He’d work a few houses at a time and when he’d gotten bored, him and my mum would choose a new location, secure a job then we’d all move after they finalized the school transfers.

“Both parents‘re in real estate?”

“No,” he laughed, “No way. But mum did decorate our home. Simply put; dad makes houses, mum makes homes.”

“She’s a stay at home mum? Is she the reason why you’re so good at your studies?”

Brick laughed heartily, “My mum’s got a home office alright, and she sometimes watches us like a hawk, but she’s not a stay at home mum. She’s a psychiatrist. A really good one actually. I mean… she makes good quid.”

Blossom giggled, “So how come you all returned to England? And why settle in such a town? Maryland is an affluent area if I’m not mistaken.”

Brick’s eye-opening stressing was enough of an answer for her, “It is. But my parents… mostly my dad, hated American schooling. The private schools were really pricy, and he wasn’t too chuffed about the lack of uniforms in the public ones. We initially lived in New York, Soho. It was the first time I saw what people meant by art deco housing and I was slowly beginning to love it. The land was small, but we lived on the eighth floor of this magnificent penthouse condo. It felt like something straight out of a book!”

“There it is!” she exclaimed, “Your rich English is showing again.” She giggled at his confusion, “Your received pronunciation is strong… almost the _definition_ of contemporary.”

“Are you kidding me?” he touched his lips as if to deny her claim, “But I’d say you too.”

“That’s fair, but I’ll have my say _after_ you’re done.”

“But now I’m curious.”

“As am I! Let me hear the end of yours and you’ll hear the full of mines. _Let’ us have me as your dungeon boss_. You’ll unlock my stage after you finish your… arc? Was that correct? Swore it was funnier in my head, but it kind of came out like a fairy tale book… it was silly, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re a gamer?”

“Only if The Sims count.”

“I can’t see why it doesn’t.”

“Well, now I’m officially a gamer… but continue, please.”

“My dad’s firm did a few expansions, and his boss absolutely loved one of his designs for Maryland, hence… we went there. Living almost large but… I don’t know, maybe it was the food, or the fact that they used miles and Fahrenheit.” He watched her brows knit and laughed, “I _know_! It’s not just on the telly! But dad got homesick… they… got homesick so they’ve found this fixer-upper city named Townsville and it's been... What? About three years so far? I think it’s safe to say that my days of moving are over... well, maybe until college."

"Hmm? You seem like an Oxford type of guy."

“Maybe… I guess, but there’re also some pretty good unis right here."

"Oxford’s _also_ not very far away!" she insisted.

"Not to sound rude, but… seems like _you're_ the one interested in going there? Innit?"

She giggled, "Who isn't?" She hugged her shoulders, "The wall of last year’s accomplishments is still up, and we’ve got that plaque dedicated to the renowned students who graduated from our school. I heard you’ve got a few scholarships lined up. I can see it as an option for you. It _is_ a reasonable goal after all.”

For lack of better words, and mostly out of surprise, he begun rambling, “I thought about Dartmouth? But closer to home, there’s Citiesville U, Townsville U... and not to mention The Institute of Townsville U."

"I considered there, but their program seemed more suited for the Law and Business students. The Nat Sci and Medical fields have a stricter course load. I might prefer my degree with a little more flexibility."

"But aren’t you studying Law?"

She smiled shyly, "But that's… kind of complicated?"

"Try me."

The sky was slowly darkening. They’d been through two soft serves, one pack of roasted nuts, and a park hot dog. Needless to say, they’d been enjoying each other’s company enough to stay out in the chilly weather. Blossom found it stupid that she hadn’t spoken to him before. He was surprisingly insightful, and he had an oddly accommodating way to which he spoke. It made sense that Princess was so annoyed by her question. Brick was as friendly as they came, she was the asshole for judging him off a few bad days in class.

"The medical field may not be in my cards, but I still like it. I’d like to learn more about it, but I just…”

"Uh-huh?" _He listened._

“I just can’t see myself in that field. I want to find something where I can… I don’t know,” she admitted, "I’m still figuring it out… and I know it’s late, but I don’t mind. I’m even open to becoming something near a malpractice lawyer... or, work with pharmaceuticals maybe? Basically, I’m going to be a huge fan of job fairs until I find the right one for me."

Brick smiled lightly in agreement. He hadn’t thought much of his decision. All he did was search up high paying jobs in a certain field and started studying towards it. He hadn’t any dreams nor passion, he just wanted to make legal money.

That’s why he’d found Boomer so admirable. That boy studied like crazy to get where he was right now. It was insane, almost stupidly so! He could easily recall Princess chastising the blond for wasting his God-given talents — _his looks_ — studying for a job that wouldn’t pay even half the salary he’d get as a model. Butch’s plans weren’t so deep. He liked suits, golf, and golfers. That was all. Somehow his brain figured that meant advertisement and he set his mind out to it. Buttercup wanted to be a shark. The idea of being around a lot of money was just the icing on her cake. Almost as if it were fate, she’d tried her hand at finance and loved it.

At first, Brick believed Butch only followed after his then-girlfriend into the Business field, but that theory had been disproved daily by Butch’s genuine interest. Those guys, they didn’t seem to have doubted their choices for one second. Brick? He was always worried.

"You?" she asked. Her voice so clear and soft, almost as if it was meant to pull him out of his void.

"Guess."

She pouted, "I can't do that."

"What if I told you my classes?"

"I do know you're in Bio and MS… and Computer Science? If I’m not mistaken… so... a medical engineer? Is that the term?".

"P-pardon?" he chuckled. It sounded a bit too advanced for him.

She blushed, “As in, a developer of robotic prosthetics or those seeing-eye cameras for the visually impaired.”

“I’m truly _flattered_ you think I could do that kind of work but—”

“I’m confused? Why can’t you?”

“It’s just a bit too much? Too complicated?"

“But… you didn’t even start. _Mathews_ , no one expects a five-year-old to become a neurosurgeon overnight. They’ve got to study towards their goal. You’re making me so confused. Why not? You’re not supposed to think about it. Just do.”

He laughed, “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“So sorry,” she lightly tapped his shoulder, “So if not that, then, doctor? Some sort of techy doctor?”

"Ta for the joke,” Brick scoffed, “I want a life in the future, so _hard_ no."

“What about private practice?”.”

“And treat a bunch of rich people? No thanks, already hate my job.”

“Okay fine!” she jokingly whined, “Just go on and tell me!”

"You weren't far off the first time. Ever heard about medical informatics or databasing? Basically, it’s—"

"Whoa..." she was in complete awe, "Really, Mathews, you don't quite look the type."

"You see, I've got some tricks up this sleeve," the attention put on his arm couldn’t have been placed in more of an inopportune time. He’d gone off and put on a show for her, taking off his blazer and rolling up his sleeves to show how his barely-there muscles slightly bulged. More out of shock than anything, Blossom’s ears reddened right after she’d seen a pulsing vein.

"Footballer, right?" She kind of wanted to touch it just to see how it felt.

"I'm pretty standard fare."

"I actually wouldn't know," she joked, "But is it okay if I ask? Why’d you also do arm workouts?"

It was an honest question. Nothing close to a flirt. Brick found it surprising that he didn’t feel the urge to make a suggestive ‘ _you checking me out?_ ’ question, especially after her fingers just barely touched his goose-bumped arm.

"Can't only have leg days, now can we?" he had to cover himself again. Not because of the cold. Of course not. His blood was boiling hot. More out of the fear that he’d be carrying a stiffy if her fingers had touched him for even a second.

God, just the idea of how soft they’d probably felt was making him a bit uncomfortable.

"Okay, okay, so... Westminster, New York—"

"Soho." He clarified. Cleared his throat right after, because his voice sounded a bit froggy then.

"Of course,” she smiled, “Maryland, then Townsville? Well, someone’s well-travelled?"

"Actually, it's Westminster, _York_ , New York." he joked making sure she got the pun.

She did but she also became curious, "York? What’s in York?"

"Actually, it was Fulford. My grand’s ‘are from York."

“Born there? Explains a lot.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was born in London, small town, not much of a story to it. We didn’t live there, just visiting.” he smiled.

"I see, but I reckon those Fulford houses were what your dad loved? Was it why you left for the states?"

He smiled, "You’re a smart cookie, aren’t you? It was great. Truly!"

"Which part, York, or America?"

"Yes?" he playfully answered, "My dad changed firms like underwear!"

He loved the way she giggled. Wanted to make her laugh a bit more. Loved the way the pink stained through her tanned cheeks. Love the way her eyes seemed to laugh along to the beat.

"And it was great for my mum’s job too. You know what’s the best part about moving to small towns in big cities?”

“No, what?”

“When everyone knows everybody, they rather tell their secrets to strangers. My mum’s no therapist… well… she _is_ in a clinical sense but… simply put, people rather go to her than their Annabeth who used to pick her nose in homeroom.”

“That’s true. But ay, you’re dad’s a mogul, and your mum’s very prolific… East Pokey Oaks, innit?"

"I’m a bit miffed that your generalization is so spot on."

“At least you’re not gutted,” she joked.

“Just like you, I’ve got quite the view! I live about a 5-minute walk from the bay. It’s two by car or moped.”

“Moped? No one really rides a...” the look on his face wasn’t one of someone faking it, “Oh my gosh... You don't! It can’t be true. You’re kidding!"

“It's like this, picture a mix of a scooter and a motorbike. You can’t go wrong with it."

"It is not! You’re absolutely off your trolley! You are so far off right now!"

"Honestly, you just need to try it. Take it from me. I’ll even loan you mines.”

"Terribly sorry but it seems as though I left my helmet at the store."

"I have a spare."

"But I have all this hair," she countered, gesturing to the loose curls she’d rushed in a half-assed ponytail, "don't think it'll all fit."

"As if mines weren’t longer." he scoffed.

“Get. Out!" Her lips curled jubilantly.

"I'm serious!"

“No way! I can’t believe that. It couldn’t have.”

It was late. The park’s foot-traffic begun to pick up as blue-collar workers trudged through with their briefcases in hand. He searched his pocket for his phone, quickly scanning through his cloud for the older photos, “You need to hear this first!”

“Okay!” she was so giddy.

“So last year, I stupidly played this game of truth or dare, yeah? One of the dares wanted my hair shaved off!”

Slack-jawed and completely amused, she laughed along, “That’s one hell of an interesting buzz cut you’ve got there.” Brick’s face had barely changed. His size may have grown a tad bit and it seemed as though his jawline was coming along.

“You should’ve seen the look on my mum’s face when I got home! Poor thing thought her son was being bullied.” _Blossom hid her face in glee, studying him with bated breath_. “Must say, it was really awkward walking in with a really… bad… seriously awful haircut and a big bruise on my face.”

"Why? Shaver nipped you?"

"No shavers, scissors… paper scissors. What happened was that I punched the jerk who made that stupid dare.”

“You could have just skipped out.”

“The punishment was _brutal_!”

“Really? What was it?”

“Twenty pounds! He expected me to pay him twenty pounds! Ain’t he crazy?”

“That doesn’t sound like much for someone living where you’re from.”

“Well if I go around throwing away me money like that then I can’t stay there.”

“Oh,” she said mischievously, “There’s a word for people like you.”

“And that’s?”

“Cheap.”

He glared, but only half as potently as usual, “The word is ‘cheated’,” he corrected, “I was clearly cheated!.”

“And you spent how much to fix your hair after?”

“Maybe about thirty or more.”

“Unbelievable!” she joked.

“Listen, I needed it marked and styled properly! I needed a professional!”

“It would’ve been cheaper to give him the twenty.”

“I wasn’t giving that cuck a dime! He could suck salt.”

“Was it because he punched you back?”

“Wished! So, after he’d said that load of rubbish, I threw the punch, but listen this. He was running, so by the time my fists reached, we were by the stairs then fell off it. I guess karma got me because I knocked my cheek on the—"

Blossom looked visibly disturbed by the story. Whereas he’d been laughing over a fond memory, she’d just imagined blood, stitches and a lot of pain.

"Oi, it was really nothing. The stairs were only about three. We fell off from the platform… I only got bruised because those walls were bloody popcorn! Swear it! It was a crazy night, will not do agai– “ he finally found the pictures, “Here it is, me before the butchering."

"Whoa."

"Yeah..."

"Okay Rapunzel, did you braid it when you went on the field?"

"Ponytail,” he nodded, “Don't miss it now. I save so much on shampoos and I barely need to comb it anymore."

“ _Clearly_."

"Wa– was that a piss? You're one to talk!"

"Bad morning. _Late_ morning and my hair was too wet too flat iron. Hey, don’t get fresh! My hair’s combed you know. People with mostly straight hair like yours just wouldn’t get it!”

“One name. Princess."

"That’s not fair. She’s mixed differently. Mines is a bit more… bent-wavy."

"Well Miss Bent-wavy, just know that for today, you can't judge what’s on my head."

She giggled, "I’ll accept that.”

Somehow, they’d let the sun set on them. Though it was obvious it was getting too late to continue, they’ve been enjoying each other’s company too much. Her interaction with Brick was almost puzzling. She didn’t understand what about him made her want to talk longer. It was even better since he didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives.

"Congratulations, you’ve just unlocked my story.”

“Finally!”

“My dad was a politician. Resigned last year. He preferred his courtroom madness over chamber meetings. He was the MP last election but didn’t want to run for this term. Said something about missing his Law roots and how grey politics felt for him. He just wanted out.”

"Ever went overseas on a diplomatic meeting with him?"

"I wouldn’t exactly call it a diplomatic meeting, but yes. The food was nice. I got to wear these beautiful dresses, but everything was a little stuffy," she shook away the bland thoughts and focused on the better moments. Brick had done a great job at entertaining her for hours, the least she could do was return the favour. "Closer to the end, they’d all get drunk and have a grand old time with each other. It was a bit funny to watch.”

"You call that funny?” he teased, “Wouldn’t want to be you then.”

“Oh shush!” Her ‘iron’ fists landed on his shoulders, and he let his hands linger on them before properly removing it in fake agony.

"So,” she started, “No high-profile parties for you?"

"Oh yeah,” his sarcasm was delivered in a delightfully humorous manner, “My mum's seminars were a complete riot alright. My dad never bothered dragging me to any of his dinners. He’d just bring back food and ask how my day was. He still does it. I’m almost certain his staff thinks I’m a toddler.”

“Staff?” She asked, “Don't mind me asking, but what's your dad's name?"

"Harvey Mathews"

Blossom squinted, "As in Harvey Ivan Mathews?"

"You even know his middle name?"

"I can assure you I’m no Mogul Bunny," she clarified, "This is kind of funny. I guess I’ve met your father before! He personally sold my parents the house and he also highly recommended the school. The thing was that dad couldn’t just leave his office, so I had to get specially admitted to a school, and here was my best bet.”

“I’m not over the idea that my dad personally sold your family a house.” He wrinkled his face, “You’re pretty high profile, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Maybe my dad is?”

“And your mum?”

“She’s a legal secretary amongst other stuff.”

“If I looked up your family, would anything come up?”

“Well, my dad was an MP… ooh, and my mum once had her face on a limited-edition box of Frosted Flakes. We had a good laugh for some months.”

“Serious question time now.”

“Yes?”

“Are you a cereal or milk first kind of gal?”

“Oh, this is your idea of serious?”

“Well… essentially, it doesn’t matter but it also explains the nature of a person. And I’d like to see into the mind of a high-profile family.”

She laughed, “I’m nowhere near high profile… Cereal first.”

He nodded, but not too visibly, “Are you a milk first guy?"

He breathed in deeply, missing how titillated she’d been after he’d properly used her first name, "Blossom listen, psychopaths may choose to pour their milk first... But the only reason normal people have the milk before cereal is that they've eaten their first bowl and would like to finish the remaining milk with some captain crunch."

“You said it didn’t matter… _essentially_.”

“I also said it explains their nature, and as the son of a – your words – _very prolific psychiatrist_ , I could safely say that milk-first people are sociopaths.”

“You said psychopaths first.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Are you sure your mother’s a psych?”

He only laughed.

“Back to cereal, I take it that captain crunch is your fav?"

"Lucky charms being a close second… You?"

"Honey bunches of oats... Cinnamon and almond flavour!"

"I'm allergic."

"Ooh, that sucks"

He laughed, "Kidding, just kidding. But you’re a bit harsh though.”

“Sorry, I’ll work on my filter. Showing pity is a bit rude though. I was simply being kind.”

“Now you’re just making stuff up, aren’t you?”

“Maybe?” she giggled.

“But seriously, there’s this really good pastry place that makes these scrumptious almond cookies. You’ve got to try them someday. I’ll give you the name and directions. Promise.”

She smiled, "How about _you_ show it to me someday?"

_As in a date?_

"Yeah! Sure!" He perked up, "if you don't mind, that is?"

She shook her head looking at the time on her phone, "I don’t see why not? I guess you forgot I’m still new here… only a few weeks in. I barely even know my way to school most days. I’m sorry if I’m coming off a bit too much. No hard feelings on my end if you want to refuse.”

“I wouldn’t mind hanging out with you more. You’re pretty cool to talk to.”

“Really? Thought you hated me because of before. I felt really bad about it. Honest. I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

“You’ve just met Buttercup, yeah?”

“Yip?”

“Today you’ve seen her on her good day, trust me. You’re not rude. We’ve got some real class acts at our school. I’m sure you could name a person or two.”

“Boomer.”

“Innit!”

She giggled, “But you love him.”

“Eh.” His hands gestured his false indifference, “Oh, you and Butch seem to be on good terms. You two close?”

“Well, he promised me a tour my first week here.”

“Butch?” he was perplexed, “Butch Jojo? Did he really?”

"Only allegedly... He said it so that this guy... Uh... He kind of made me uncomfortable...” she tried her best to recall his name, “What was it again? Henry? No, it’s Harr, Harr… Oh right! Harry. He’d originally volunteered to do it... But he's a bit too…"

"Over-friendly? Yeah, good kid... Just too much energy."

She curled a hair behind her ear the same way she did the first time he saw her, "Ditto...”

“And…. De—?” _no. He didn’t want to know._

“There’s this one girl I actually don’t like?”

“Really?”

“She shares Law 1 with me. This tall upper six student with a snake arm tattoo. I mean, she pretends to hide it, but no one hikes their sleeves up in that cold school. It’s crazy, the warm temperatures haven’t even come in yet. She just… Ack! I don’t know. I just feel so unedged when she looks at me. So unnerving!”

“That’s because the gangrenes are people you can’t even pretend to like… Billy’s decent but Ace isn’t even for acquired tastes.”

Blossom coughed slightly, “I’ve met with Billy… plays baseball, yeah?” Brick could tell by the way she hid her face that they’d been talking about a different person, “We’ve hung out a couple of times, but he didn’t strike me as the type to hang around people like Ivy. Plus, he’s in our year, I just don’t see why he’d hang around those seniors over us...”

“Not that pretty boy,” Brick rolled his eyes, “The one I’m talking about’s **big**. Like the bloody size of a house… and he dyed his hair carrot... just… so bloody big!"

She giggled, "Think I saw him once or twice.”

“Blossom, _no_. If you saw him. You _know_. You don’t _think_. You _know_!”

She giggled. “Okay, I saw him a few times but... Did you just say he dyed his hair carrot?"

"Babe, there's literally no other way to phrase it."

She blushed. She knew he didn't mean it that way, but it was hard to not feel self-conscious after. “It's getting late." she shyly pushed her phone towards him, "Um, exchange numbers?"

He looked down and thought about it. Even mentally calculated how long he should take before answering. After a fifteen second delay, he gave her the affirmation. Awkward wasn't a look he often wore, but could he admit it now? He was absolutely smitten!

He had crushes before, but not like this. Obviously, their school had a freaking beauty or two walking around, but they didn’t act, smell, or even talk like Blossom. She was more mature than he’d expected and the way she could carry a conversation with him was simply enticing!

Could he just do it now? Was it safe for him to admit she was definitely his type?

Maybe it was hormones or the fact that he was seventeen and never had a girlfriend. Could also be that she was this new shiny thing in a city filled with old or refurbished items. Whatever the fuck was his reason for noticing her, he did. Her personality was out of the world if not indescribable and the way he had to go through hoops — _the fact that he actually put in work in the first place_ — was proof enough that he liked her... most likely past the bridge of just friends.

“What’s that?”

She pointed, “Said I’m going over there now,” she whispered, “Time to go home.”

“I’ll walk you.”

She giggled, "I'm not giving you all that work Brick. It’s fine." His name sounded a bit shaky when it left her lips.

"You're cold?"

"Not rea..." he saw the way she seemed to ease in the warmth of his jacket.

"I’m not using it.” He pointed to his open knapsack, “And my books think it looks better on you… just give it back on Monday. Rules of Townsville, April temperatures are shit after rain."

She nodded, "Trust me, duly noted."

"So, we’re walking you to your…?”

"Cab app!” she saw that look, “Don’t worry, it's only 2 minutes away."

He liked the way she nuzzled more into his jacket. He loved the fact that he saw her in his jacket.

“I’m not. Just making sure you get home safe.”

“Thought you wanted to shower?"

He chuckled, “What’s a few extra minutes after a few hours? Eh?”

“Oops.” She grinned.

“But trust me, first thing on my docket when I get home."

Blossom looked at the Silver Almira that stopped right in front of them, “Guess this is me.” She double-checked before slowly opening the car door.

He nodded pleasantly, “Yeah. Um… reach home safe.” Was he supposed to hug her? She didn’t seem like a hugger… most girls here weren’t huggers anyway… except Robin but she’s…

“Will do… and Brick?”

“Yeah?” he asked, watching her go inside the car.

“I think we had a really nice chat today, Thanks! And for the jacket too!”

Face flushed red, but she probably couldn’t see it from the dimmed atmosphere, “Yeah… me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next:  
> Chapter 4: This Feeling  
>  _Brick struggles to appear cool in Blossom's eyes._
> 
> Unfamiliar Characters:  
>  **Billy** : Twas the fight before Christmas ( _Christmas themes movie_ )


	4. This Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because he accepted it in his heart, doesn't mean he'd ever say it out loud. They're getting closer. That's all that matters, but could he act natural for once? In which the gang invites Blossom to lunch.

* * *

Having a sporadic fit because the social Feng Shui ‘ _felt_ ’ off was probably the most ingenious plan Boomer had pulled off for the year. One should note, his lavish bullshitting about ‘study synergies and chemistries’ failed miserably. It was only after he mentioned the delightful cracks in Brick’s personality that the space in between Boomer and Blossom was reserved. Same girl placed her knapsack on Brick’s chair after everything had been said and done. Sure, there was no need, but for all the times he’d passed on sitting next to her, she needed this win.

Light refreshments were being ordered on her dime. Boomer remained rooted to his seat in deep thought as his eyes peered over the menu card and towards the plain-clothed waitress. In the sea of crisp uniforms and lint-free aprons, that young blonde with her tresses tied low stood out to him. Her tone was gentle, and she spoke with a happy burst of confidence.

Don’t know if it was her darn-near enticing laugh or if it had been the way her skin was freckled loosely with moles, but to Boomer, her face warranted every stolen glance. He’d stutter if he’d tried to speak. Boomer was painfully aware of the damage fresh crushes did to his vocal cords; the way it gutted and stabbed his insides and the way they messed with his head.

Being the more interested party sucked. It pained him to desire her name, the school she attended, or to know if she’d been looking. Questions like that — **_interest_** _like that_ — usually came after _she’d_ stolen a glance or two. He wasn’t the best at relationships; a bit neglectful, forgetful, and sometimes over-friendly with others. Whatever the reason, they always ended with the girl’s shed tear and a bit of regret from being too much like his own father.

Anyways, he hated this. Crushing first was hardly ever his thing. His fear of rejection usually prevented it from happening.

He should have studied at home.

_He hated this._

Brick entered the café as if he’d just bitten into a slice of heaven. The atmosphere felt light and airy, the furnishing’s conditions were mint, and the tables were sparse of the slightest scratch or stain. The music that danced to his ears mixed between easy classics and current top hits. Brick was too busy wondering how Blossom managed to discover the place to notice Boomer’s intense stare the moment he reached the top of the stairs.

“Mate, your face?” Either way, the blonde was glad for the distraction. Though the others were yet to have caught on, he knew he’d been looking in her direction for far too long.

Brick’s eyes continued to cruise the room for a flaw. Had the study meet not been on Blossom’s dime, he'd have walked the fuck back out and get his stomach’s fill at a vending machine or a cheap parlour. The hints of epoxy leaking through the floor made him feel a bit at ease. Perhaps, the only reason the café looked so lavish was that it was recently renovated.

“Hey,” He needed to get the blanket greetings out the way first. Surprise took him as he realized he’d been the last to arrive. Brick had managed to drag himself to the meeting spot a whole ten minutes early, yet the other six were already seated and prepared. _Go figure_.

Seeing Blossom again brought about a sea of emotions. Her eyes seemed to have lit up the moment they dragged past whatever dark brew she had steaming in her mug and looked at him. Brick couldn’t help but recall their little bonding session last afternoon. Between that, a few shared texts and the fact that she’d worn her hair differently today made it a little hard to hide his growing crush.

He had worried about her the night before. Even freaked his sister out by his unsettling antics. Courtney may have been a brat most times, but seeing her brother anxiously fixated on his phone while his hair dripped on his shoulders was disquieting.

Blossom had texted a bit late — as in, ‘ _twenty minutes after Brick himself asked if she got home safe_ ’ late. Thoughts about her safety or if she’d been ignoring him quickly squatted in his mind but they’d been quelled by how easily she’d roped him into a chat.

Honestly, he still remembered how three simple words, ‘ _Blossom is typing . . ._ ’, made his insides knot. That time, Brick had even chewed the tip of his thumb until it reddened and almost pierced. Yes, it pained. Duh, it stung. So what, it near-drew blood, but it was the least he could do to stay grounded.

“Door.” The memory was as painful as it was embarrassing. There was no chance in hell Boomer was going to get further details.

All in all, their study session had been a commercial success. Within the last six hours, they’d managed to breeze through two practice tests and at least eight difficult questions they’d stumbled upon during their personal studies. Somewhere in between, maybe during their first break, Brick turned to the small tap on his shoulder. Between her twin braids with white ribbons adorning the end, — _no, he wasn’t staring! Sometimes she’d toy with her kiwi and coconut-scented plait to clear her mind!_ — light makeup refreshing her face with colour and the smell of her perfume, Brick was not okay.

"Look down," she said softly. While everyone else had preoccupied themselves with another snack order, she’d taken the liberty to return his borrowed article.

She’d packaged it oddly. A small brown shopping bag that looked like she’d just visited a boutique. "House-warming gift?" he’d asked stupidly.

Her giggle was understandable, "It’s yours."

His eyes widened, "I... Didn't get you anything back."

"No silly, your jacket.” Brick was really out of it, “I washed it."

"You didn't have… It wasn’t even all that clean." A shrug because it was a thoughtful act on her behalf.

"It's the least I could do."

“But you’re already sponsoring…"

Her lips seemed to have tightened, her gaze cautious as she leaned in closer, “My friend there…” fingers pointing to the plain-clothed blonde, “Bubbles? This is her family’s.”

“Ooh,” He chuckled, dare not look at her since she was too close for his chest to comprehend, “Abusing our friend role, are we now?”

She giggled even louder, a stray-eye catching their moment, “Almost? I may have mentioned something about the son of Ivan Realty and Mathews Designs before…”

He looked at her oddly; suspicious, weary.

“Oh, God! No, wait, not like that!” Her tone still hushed, her palms framing her embarrassed cheeks, “Okay, look. It was stupid, but at that time it was funny. I mean!” she giggled, “Come on, I’m in class with the son of the man who sold my family our house… that’s bonkers? Right?”

Not really but he still smiled in agreement.

“Whatever,” she teased, “But Bubs and I got to talking and…”

He listened intently. Mostly since he enjoyed her flustered rattling. Something about her slipping character was oddly comforting. Blossom had been one of the most put-together and mature girls he’d met in a while. Seeing her all defensive like that had been cute. She was after all, cute; _very_ cute.

She paused after he’d flickered her straying fringe from her face. Part of having bangs was that they didn’t always conform to loosely braided styles. She tried to get it all back, but as the day went on, they’d keep getting free and curled to her eyes. Annoying, yes, but growing them out was not something she was open to… yet.

“Well, at some phase your dad helped them out… and that’s when she joked that if I ever brought you here, food’s free… so…”

“She gave you an inch, so you took a mile?” Save for Princess and her skewered view of socializing, no one loosely described Brick as a nice person with tact. A fun asshole was what he was, and on a good day, an alright lad. His bluntness wasn’t something most people were a fan of but — _luckily_ – Blossom had taken it in one of the most humorous tones.

“You can say that.” She tittered. Partly true, Blossom _did_ have a few costs to cover but they paled in comparison to studying at Joey Finklemeyer’s father’s conference room. Listen, that boy was one of the most self-important jerks she’d met… and she grew up with a lot of social climbing disasters. Had Robin revealed that her last-minute study group was filled with such… _God_! No wonder Brick and Boomer almost passed. Freaking nightmares!

Brick smiled, “My dad’s almost a real celebrity in your eyes, yeah? Enough to name-drop me? _Me_?”

“Oh relax,” she teased, “We just used that as an excuse to help cover the costs.”

A brow popped at her word choices. Only the slightest slip, but he’d been smart enough to see through her story. Blossom may seem firm and steeled, but the girl had moments when she was far too nice. It was a sight he wasn’t a fan of. “I’m still paying my share, don’t worry.”

He didn’t need to squeeze her hand with such reassurance. Blossom was perfectly fine with her decision. A bit too quickly, she pulled her hand away, fisting them on her leg as she continued. Oddly, the action didn’t spur much thought between the two… Boomer honestly believed they didn’t even realize the awkward situation they averted.

"I don't doubt that you can, but I insist."

Brick waited until it had been late to act. While the group chatted amongst themselves, he looked to one of the staff; their uniform, an almost colour-blocked shirt in khakis and apron, cute, refreshing, stylish, “Bathroom?”

* * *

“Nice haircut.”

His cap was finally off. Held neatly in his hands. Subconsciously, he raked his fingers through it, the short length feeling unfamiliar to the touch, “What’s your angle?”

“No, no,” Boomer explained, chin in palms with a wicked grin, “Looks good, honestly!”

Brick’s glare never wavered. He positioned himself on the chair and forced a thanks for the sake of being polite. His fingers brushed past the bruising on his forehead. Had he known it would have darkened this much, he’d have opted out of cutting three months’ worth of his hair and give his hand a try at bangs.

“Smells good too.” Blossom added. She didn’t have the social tact the others had. She wasn’t too good at inserting herself into conversations without careful consideration.

She kept a straight face as the two passed their gazes between her. Her awkward swallow being missed as Bubbles rushed to her rescue, “Anything else?”

Brick blinked out of pure surprise. “Well… no… I don’t think…” 

“Well, _I think_ you should try our special of the month!” she really was a charismatic gem.

“And that’s?”

“Caramel pecan pie!”

“What’s the cost?”

Her smile widened, “On the house!”

“No, seriously.” He glared at people far too easily.

“ _Yes_ , seriously.” She was completely unfazed.

“No-”

“ _Brick_!” Robin groaned, fixing the last set of completed papers into her binder, “You know, sis,” she addressed Bubbles directly, “Just for him, I’ll pay.” She shook his head, “He’s always like this, I’m _so_ sorry.”

Bubbles returned the apologies, “It’s really on the house! Look, I’ll even bring one for eve- ”

“Then you’ll go bankrupt.” _This guy_.

“Brick, _why_ are you like this?” Robin hissed. The atmosphere got heated fast. The girl seated beside Robin really tried to calm her down, but Brick’s personality had a habit of getting bristly at the most inopportune times. She’d tell him off directly, but she really wanted their study group to last more than one session. The chances that any of the newer members would return were slim as is. Tanking it by challenging Brick was not an option! Robin should have known better!

“I’ll have a slice.” Boomer said simply, “And a cup of builder’s? My last for the day.” He closed the menu card and smiled genuinely, “We should hang out sometime, my treat! Honestly, thanks for this, Bloss.”

_That fucking heartthrob._

The table got quiet; thoughtful first, then grateful.

Joey looked at his watch and grimaced, “Is it really this late already?”

Robin shrugged, “If you guys want to go on longer, I don’t mind.”

Boomer shook his head, “Tapped out.”

Joey nodded, “Yeah, same here. It’s already half six… but tomorrow’s fine–”

“I’ll pas-”

“Whoops. Sorry, Blossy.” It was no fucking accident. Call it a save-her-friend-from-being-a-rude-bitch type of ‘stumble’. Bubbles was wearing sneaks for crying out loud!

Blossom straightened and smiled, “My apologies, I’m actually quite busy tomorrow.” One of her rehearsed lies. “But this was good work! Thanks everyone… and, also,” _because she really didn’t like Joey,_ “No one here is obligated to treat me to anything. I bribed you all to study here, so it’s nothing, really!” Her distancing was subtle but very much understood.

Robin felt a bit jaded, “Hey, Joey? Help me out? I think I’ll leave too. Drop me home?”

“Yeah,” he flexed his keys, “Got the cool car today, this baby drives smooth.”

White noises, interference, chatter that receded with time; the day had passed. Brick smiled impishly at the two seated across him, the way they racked their brains for easy excuses to leave.

“Well, I guess that’s it.” Maybe it was pity… or something else. Let’s just say, he really didn’t want anyone else to make an order.

“Yes, today was very… scholarly… _what_?” Suzan had managed. She usually thought of herself as a figment of female strength and empowerment, but something about Brick and Boomer made her feel so small. “Lou, are you taking the bus?”

“It’s not like I have a car.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m offering you a ride to the stop. Jesus. Just take it!” as much of a drag he was, she’d feel less self-conscious if she left the group with someone else. She _would_ ask Blossom, but that girl was far too intimidating to consider manipulating.

“Bye.” Boomer said sweetly as if he’d known she’d had a few nasty thoughts about them in her head.

“Yeah,” a shy wave.

Bubbles beamed when they left. She flipped her notepad open once more and begun working on the rather difficult boy in front of her, “So, the special?”

“I guess,” He shrugged. _Cheeky little devil_. “I’ll just have what Boom’s having.”

She dipped her head in confusion, “Boom?” the gears turning slowly, “Oh,” she turned, “Is that you?”

“Boomer,” He clarified, and with a tired point, he explained, “He’s Brick.”

She smiled, “Bubbles,” he’d lost count every time he tried counting the dusted moles on her face. The hint of the prominent beauty mark on her ear caught him off guard. _Stunning._

“What about you, Blossom?”

“No, it’s late. I _shouldn’t_.”

Bubbles nodded in understanding, “Let me just put in their orders and I’ll meet you at the office. Dad’ll take you home.”

“Thanks.”

“Darling, It’s fine.”

* * *

Well, that day went nice. Nice enough to carry his smile into the next week. He learnt a few things about her last Saturday. Like how she was the type to dress regally. Her blouse, though unusual, gave such charm to the rich wine-coloured circle skirt she wore. Another thing he noted was that she was getting used to the cold. Her stockings weren’t even that thick, yet she’d been complaining about the heat. No, he wasn’t staring at her legs… well, not on purpose.

Oh, whatever! Between her fashion choices, scent, and the shine on her lip gloss, Brick was surprised he didn’t fumble right next to her. Even as the days faded in and out, the memory of her still burned into his cheeks. Boomer had twice asked if he’d been unwell because… well… Brick had been caught smiling a few times in the hallways. It creeped the blonde out.

Somehow, thinking that she’d touched his arm four times for a consultation left an imprint on his chest. Something almost mimicking a cup of cocoa on a cold winter evening, or that first time he went ziplining in the mountains. Buzzling, indescribable–

“What Butch?” He lacked tact when answering his phone. He groaned as one of his exiting classmates jumped from his tone. Okay, maybe he needed to work on being a little more personable, but these people always overreacted when it came to him.

“Babe, you’re blocking my locker. Move.”

Brick’s eyes immediately searched the source of the commotion, not even surprised that Princess was telling off an upperclassman who’d mistakenly inconvenienced her while he was flirting with his boyfriend.

“You’re on the money, but she’s only talking.” Brick eased in the call. Friends or not, Princess was a bitch and it’s not his fault that Butch recognized that shrill from the receiver, “You’re downstairs already? … Did you skip class or something? … Yeah… I’m down, let me just finish with my locker.”

* * *

_“But the formulas aren’t formulating, Ainsley! Are you sure there isn't a problem with my laptop? I think it's got a bug."_

Boomer propped his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he held the stubborn door open. He was thanked, of course. One or two girls giggled childishly after taking his gesture personally.

"Quite the chauvinist, are we?" Blossom grinned, resting her back against the adjacent hallway window.

"Some doors get stuck like this sometimes… nothing an ole’ lunchtime greasing won’t fix.”

"Thanks Boomer!" another girl cheered. The guy trailing slowly behind just scoffed in disgust, hand in his blazer as he marked Boomer a flirt.

_Fuck that shit._

"Buttercup? Are you coming or what?" very angry for someone with a permanent smile stitched on his face. Letting go of the door was his greatest release. Blossom still stayed pressed on the wall, watching the blonde roll the pain off his shoulders, “For the record Blossom, common courtesy. There was a group behind me…”

The girl said nothing, only smiled.

“Why am I wasting my time explaining to you? You know what? I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” _how unhinged_ , “Common. Courtesy."

She shrugged, "No offense, but you’re thinking _way_ too deep into what I sa-" her hand immediately clasped on her chest at Buttercup’s loud interlude.

“Help. Me.”

Boomer hung up. Wished his phone was a flip for that lovely dramatic effect. “Hi Boomer,” he said sarcastically, then turned to Blossom as he showed Buttercup what it meant to have manners, “Oh, hi Blossom! So sorry. Did I interrupt your _super_ important conversation because I don't know how to operate an overpriced laptop? My humble apologies."

"Our teacher recommends Macs." She’s used to him already.

Boomer rolled his eyes, "Macs are pure shit for gaming."

"Whoop-tee-doo. Thankfully, I don’t game.” Buttercup turned to Blossom’s shuffling. The girl’s hugged arm exposed her reluctance to leave them without a word. A month ago, Blossom wouldn’t have thought twice about disappearing. Unfortunately, she’d gotten attached to some of the students, so she’d been struggling to keep her good impressions. "Blossom, yea? We’ve met before."

Blossom awkwardly bowed her head before Buttercup could offer a very stiff handshake.

"I’m thinking,” there was something misplaced about her smile, “Since you're already hanging out with this loser here, want to join me for lunch?"

"I don't want to impose." Fast and polite rejections were Blossom’s specialty. They left her lips almost automatically.

"I mean, you're not.” Buttercup clarified, “I invited you,” her tone quickly switching to a friendlier beat, “Plus, I _need_ to borrow Boomer! I’d _hate_ that I interrupted your super important conversation!”

It was sad that Blossom didn’t understand how fake Buttercup was at that moment. The girl did ‘peppy’ like a pro. Buttercup was internally gagging at every action she made. To her friends, it was pretty obvious. Honestly, not her finest act, but still acceptable. Boomer was really keen on keeping his poker face until he found Buttercup’s ulterior motive.

“You really don’t have t–”

“You know,” she crinkled her nose whilst enjoying her borrowed persona, “I don’t think I ever saw you in lunch hall before? Look, you’re friends with Brick, right? I’ll get him to sit with us.”

“Ha!” Boomer grinned. “Chance.”

She glared, then smiled sweetly at Blossom, “I’m _sure_ he’d be interested.”

Boomer opened his eyes in recognition of her scheme, “Holy fudge! Yes! Blossom, _please_!”

* * *

Brick almost choked on his milk. Even though he and Blossom were on casual texting terms, he'd never had the courage to ask her out to lunch again. Seeing her stroll in with Buttercup and Boomer _— a pair that sometimes meant fucking disaster_ — made him question his sanity. "I think my brain's fried."

"Nope, I see her too." Butch barely replied. Just placed his phone face down on the table.

"Why?"

"Because she's… there?" notice that Butch never mentioned who. Even though he wasn’t too big on piss-Brick-off-Thursdays, he was bored, so he complied.

"No, I mean... Why's she there?"

His shrug perfectly matched his don’t-know-don’t-care expression. His table was near filled… Well… there were two others occupying the bench. They could have fit if they were less stingy on table space, but he didn’t want to, "Remember when I said these seats were saved?” Harry barely got a bite in before Butch changed his tune, “Ride the fuck out."

Brick rose a brow. Didn’t expect them to scamper without even a protest. Had Brick done that same shit, he’d be called out for being a tyrant, but oh well, apples to oranges, life’s always been quite the bitch. "What are you, a struggling mafia man now?"

“And you’re my boss, _boss_.”

He glared, “Funny.”

“I should be thanked! I know I’m not the only one seeing how grumpy that asshole looks!"

"Yikes, does Buttercup know you talk about her like that?"

" _Funny_."

Brick studied the blonde, “Yeah, really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him force a smile that wide. You know, I’d kill to see someone push his buttons today. Never saw him snap before. It’ll be a laugh."

"I can't risk getting suspended again. Dad might lose his last shit."

Brick snickered, "Come on, you're saying that if he got in a fight, you're not getting involved?"

Butch glared.

"You’re right, mate.” He looked at Butch’s fists, “Those things you got there are bloody weapons, innit? Don’t know why you’re such a hooper. You should be Krav Magaing or something like that.”

"I… do something like that?” wasn’t much of a question, just a blanket statement, “Remember that three-week involuntary counselling I got way back when?”

“As in, last year?”

“So, they advised ‘ _physical_ outlets’."

"Does it help?"

"No."

"Classic."

Buttercup pulled her laptop out of her bag and promptly placed it on the lunch table.

"This mess comes with a password?" Boomer asked, settling in his space.

"It’s not locked. Just, let me get my lunch. And the file’s already opened, no worries.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Impatience made his eyes wander. Butch’s food looked like the first step to a heart attack. He understood that the boy’s father wasn’t much of a cook, but it didn’t mean Butch had to go buy himself the most disgustingly unhealthy shit he could find in a street cart.

“How could you eat that _absolute_ rubbish?"

Butch looked up, mouth filled with the cheesy fries, and swallowed. Nope, he didn’t choke… surprisingly. Years of barely chewing made it easy to swallow just about anything, "This? This is good shit! It’s like poutine, but _on crack_! And… piss off! Still better than your MIND diet shit food."

“Which is sodium-free,” Brick rightfully added.

Boomer acted mighty offended, "Brick, what did mum cook for me?"

"You want?" He’d looked as though he’d been waiting for the suggestion.

"This bloke’s asking answers here!" he cried.

"No backsies." Brick quickly exchanged lunches with a lazy smile. From what he’d noticed, it seemed to be another one of those fancy Mediterranean salads with chicken.

“What's wrong with this?" Boomer asked suspiciously.

"We’ve been having steak every night for the past week. I’m sick of it."

"Seriously? I hate your type. _This lad’s_ got life good and he’s got the _gall_ to complain. No, seriously? Why can't I just become your brother?"

" _Brother_? You’re still holding that crush on my sister? Didn’t know you were into the bratty types. God bless your poor soul."

"You have a sister?" Blossom asked quietly.

Brick was suddenly conscious of his every blink, breath, and muscle twitch. How on God’s green earth did he forget that Blossom was there? “Yes?”

One, why did he answer as a question. Two, was he seriously stuttering? He had a class with her just fine this morning. He’d spent a good hour texting her on Tuesday and he was pretty sure he’d been more on the cool side last Saturday. What the heck was wrong with him?

“How come you're not with Dexter?"

 _He was stupid. That was what’s wrong with him_.

"Hmm?" The question confused her at first. She poked her creamy mac and cheese a bit before talking about the tutoring program she’d joined for community service hours. It made sense. The whole thing just screamed… ‘Blossom’ and at some point, Boomer had to question if she had a life.

She had a laugh, “Of course I do,” prodding him with her elbow since he’d gotten so snappy and snarky.

Buttercup joined in the middle of their ‘interrogation’. Her first step to accepting Blossom was to show her the ropes, “And seriously, these two?” Buttercup pointed, “They don’t let up, so you _need_ to be upfront and tell them as it is or else, they’ll walk all over you.”

“I know _someone_ who’d — Ouch! Buttercup!”

“Wasn’t me.” She rose her hands defensively, eyes widened with glee.

There was a mischievous glint to Butch’s nonchalant gaze. He’d been paying too much attention to his food lately. His lack of eye contact meant he’d been up to no good. It took the others a while to catch on, but after Butch had moved to the end of his table, their plan was set in motion.

“Sorry Bloss, could you go over to Brick’s side?”

“I’m… sorry?” She wasn’t sure if he was kicking her out because she somehow vexed him or if he’d been kidding. If it was the former, it was nearly embarrassing. “Cups and I are working on this here,” he further explained. Must say, he felt relief after he’d seen that pint of doubt leave her eyes. “and we sort of need some space… I want to scoot around.”

“ _So sorry_ ,” Buttercup’s sugar-sweet voice quickly alerted Brick she’d been scheming. Calling them out on their shit was too risky. They’d obviously dragged Butch into it so the only person to be potentially embarrassed was him. “And we need more space to put our bags.”

 _Bullshit_.

Still, Brick scooted near the middle as he added salt to his lunch. His friends meant well. That was all that mattered. 

“I think I got your problem.”

They’d gotten back to Buttercup’s assignment. A few incorrectly linked columns, bad graph plotting, and… simply put, Buttercup sucked at excel. _Dog shit_ according to her current tutor. Brick was upset he wasn’t considered to help but after it was made obvious that he routinely marked her texts as read, he’d been silent for a while.

"Okay, and that’s why I asked you to show me what I did wrong!” Buttercup argued.

“The question is, what didn’t you do wrong?”

“This guy!” she groaned, “I really can’t stand you sometimes!”

"Yet you texted him instead of me."

"Brick, you don’t even bother to open her messages." Boomer was so done.

"So? And?”

Blossom facepalmed. The point flew past his head.

“Always the pretty ones. So dumb.” Sure, Buttercup had said it to Brick, but the way she’d been playing in Boomer’s hair meant he’d also been referenced.

"You flatter me Buttercup. You're not my type." Brick dug his own grave.

"Oh?" Butch slyly asked, “You have a type?” his gleam bright and mischievous. There was a distinct twitch in his arm. Probably a result of him getting too excited over such a trivial prank.

Brick’s face immediately reddened, his muscles tensing as he stared at his salad. Where were the public meltdowns when he needed it? Most of the students were exhausted. Baggy eyes, dulling skin, and fresh acne welts. They hadn’t the time to throw a wobbly. That really blew!

“Hey, Butch? Mind I ask? Doesn’t your digital media course cover excel? You should try helping her too.”

“Unfortunately, I went to him first,” Buttercup groaned, “He’s just as bad as me, okay? But the guy deserves an A for effort. Boomer has his uses and I’m over you ignoring my texts. So let’s just drop it for now, please?”

“You really want to drop Brick explaining his type?” Boomer asked in a sort of distracting tone. Albeit he was sometimes great at multitasking, his priority was helping Buttercup.

"I don't have a type. But I'll know her when I see her."

"Don't you mea-"

" _Her_?” Butch was faster and louder, “You said you’ll know _her_ when you see _her_. I’m no English major but– ”

“You’re really not.”

“Buttercup, shush!” Boomer warned. Butch was really laying it thick! He loved it!

“ _He should have said_ ,” Butch carefully enunciated his words because _screw her_. “It. I asked _your type_ , not _your girl_.” An impish smile, “Unless… wait, is your type is based on a girl? I mean, if it is... My apologies,” Hands to his chest in the noblest of ways.” If _she_ is... would she happen to have curly red hair?"

"Oh, fuck you." Brick was usually very stingy with his dire curses. He wanted to trust that they wouldn’t say anymore but if he were in their shoes, that trust would be out the window.

On Butch's nudge, Boomer continued, "you usually ignore our _Princess_ teases... What's happening today?"

"Probably exams." He lied. And you know what? He wasn’t daft. They weren’t bloody talking about Morbucks! Blossom was freaking next to him for crying out loud. Why the hell would they even do him like that? He’s been nice all month!

"Or we probably hit the nail on its head."

Buttercup snickered, "Oh yeah? Princess, _sure_." her sarcasm, ripe for the picking. Brick wanted to fucking die. Blossom wasn’t usually the clueless type when it came to these things. He probably lucked out since she’d been spacing out the whole time. Everyone there had their place. They all belonged… which, made sense, because they were friends for quite some time. But Blossom felt like an imposter.

Playing with her mac and cheese, tuning in to a few of their jokes, and replying when she thought she’d been addressed. That was all she’d been doing. That’s why when she’d replied on his behalf, she had no idea that their words had merits or the fact that Brick had a serious crush on her. Just a week ago, she thought he disliked her so much that she found it hard to even tell him ‘hi’.

"You guys need to give him a break." Blossom pleaded. “Look at how red his face is!” _It was because she was sitting near,_ “And he's getting redder.” _Because she was defending him_. “I get that your friendship is strong, but what if he starts distancing himself because he’s uncomfortable? And what about Princess? Don’t you think he’ll start feeling uncomfortable around her?” _he wouldn’t. They’re like cousins. Their feelings were mutual in that sense_. “I don’t know. I just feel like you’re all adding fuel to the rumours… and what if he actually likes her.”

“I do _not_.”

Butch cackled. “You heard him! A riot eh! God. He told you!”

Buttercup kicked him under the table — _knock it off_. If he didn’t catch himself now, she’d fall prey to his laughter, then Boomer would join in. The gang had said enough to make her aware but not entirely sure. The chances of Blossom reciprocating his feelings were next to none. Flat-out telling her about his crush would lead to disaster but planting only the thought might bear some hope.

Brick was dopey most days, but he deserved his slice of the pie. He wasn’t bad-looking or anything. He was years due for a reform, but she might be able to work with that. Sure, the group’s methods may have been a little unconventional, but they wanted to help. Sue them.

"Don’t worry about it,” Well, this felt awkward. Buttercup didn’t even know why she felt obligated to explain herself. It appeared that she simply succumbed to Blossom’s motherly scolding, “He knows we’re joking and those rumours? Not started by us. It’s a run-on joke… it’s funny how twisty his knickers gets over it… Plus, this time we weren’t even talking about Princess. We dropped her name because… it’s… funny?"

_Suspicious._

“Look, I feel bad, okay?” Buttercup explained, “Let me make this up to you.”

“Oh, there’s no need.” She smiled.

“No, let’s get to know each other.”

Blossom continued smiling.

“Are you free on the weekends? Movies?”

“Uh…” hands twiddling, eyes searching the lunch hall for familiar faces. Buttercup made her feel cornered. Couldn’t describe how but she felt like prey to her whims.

“Relax, she’s not asking you out… not in the way you’re thinking.” Butch spoke up. He’d had enough of the group for now. The whole let’s-sit-down-and-have-a-chat mood they’ve been promoting lately was quite the bore. He wanted to sit in on some gossip or game scores, not this play-with-me-let’s-be-friends nonsense. “Buttercup, you’re too forward! Chill.”

“Rich coming from you.”

“Oh, I’m chill…”

“ _Ignoring_ Butch,” she sighed, “I know Brick’ll be in.”

“Fuck off.” His only answer.

Boomer snickered, “Not missing this! And I owe her a date.”

Curious eyes from Buttercup and Butch made him clarify, “As in a _friendly_ get-together. Geez, what’s wrong with you people?”

“ _And_ we’re rolling back to Butch. You in?”

“Let’s see. Hoops, or some rom-com… Which do I choose?”

Buttercup seemed pissed.

“As hard as the decision is.” _Brick tried his hardest not to laugh_ , “Hoops, there it is! Hoops, there it is!” Butch had real balls.

“For the last time _Butch_ ,” Patience and understanding were not Buttercup’s middle names, “ _you’re_ the one who bought the wrong tickets.”

They fought. Expected. Buttercup was stubborn and Butch liked doing whatever he wanted. As much as they complemented each other on their best days, they’d get nasty on their worst.

“So, what movie it is this time?” Brick was the type to leave people to fight it out. It probably humoured him. God bless Boomer’s soul for always knowing the right thing to say. Without his input, Buttercup was probably going for Butch’s shirt collar.

“I’m thinking,” Blossom offered. Her going already seemed like a done deal, the least she could do was give watchable options, “Something actiony, DC?”

There was a short pause for thought. Their faces showing agreement after a few seconds. “Blossom’s in… just _you_ Butch.”

“I said pass.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“Pass.”

“Fucking hell!”

“Still, pass.”

“Well, we’re going to have fun without you then.”

“Don’t care.” He left. Brick was surprised he’d even lingered so long.

“ _That guy_.” Buttercup groaned, turned to Blossom then smiled, “So, how’s this school treating you? And these two jerks? They giving you a hard time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next:  
> Chapter 5: Roses  
>  _With all the things that have been happening at school. It's nice to take a break once in a while. If Blossom's getting comfortable with Brick's friends, it's natural that he'd do the same with hers, right? Does this mean they're getting closer?_
> 
> Unfamiliar Characters:  
>  **Joey Finkelmeyer** : Season 3 Episode 12 _Equal Fights_  
>  **Suzan (Play on the Femme Fatale)** : Season 3 Episode 13 _The City of Frownsville_  
>  **Lou Gubrious** : Season 6 Episode 10 _The City of Frownsville_
> 
> My laptop's on its last legs and I'm not in a good place atm. If you've noticed the drop in quality, I'm so sorry :(( !! If it gets any worse, I'll hold off on updating. I have a few "fun" pieces in my folder. I might mess around one day and post one of them, IDK, I surprise myself most times.  
> Also, take my summaries with a grain of salt. I was never any good at making them.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> If I've skipped a tag that may matter, feel free to shoot me a message.


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